


leave a light on

by artsyleo



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Universe, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Overdosing, Panic Attacks, Self-Destruction, Self-Doubt, Songfic, also this is very callum-centric till maybe chapter 6 or 7, if you'd like a more detailed tw for the whole story hit up my tumblr, please read/take notice of more detailed tw at the beginning of every chapter!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26815594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsyleo/pseuds/artsyleo
Summary: In the morning, he’ll sort everything else out. It’ll be fine.It’s scary enough that now he has to convince himself of that.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell
Comments: 36
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> tw - criminal activity, quarantine/lockdown/covid (light mentions throughout the story, not central to the plot tho), drug use
> 
> a warning- this whole story centres around the theme of drug addiction. if this is something that could possibly trigger you, please do not read!! keep yourselves safe x
> 
> a second warning- this is really fucking sad for a while lmao sorry, although i promise you there WILL eventually be a happy or at least very hopeful ending (idk which ive not written it yet) but like if youre not good with angst maybe dont read this it's not all that fluffy until later

He should have known. 

Callum shouldn’t’ve been so naïve to think that he could actually do this, spend so many months without Ben. Of course, back when the decision was made, it was maybe a couple weeks, a month at most. They’re several months down the line now, though, and life as they used to know it is gone. He doesn’t think he’s  _ ever _ spent this much time in a house by himself. He’d been straight out of home into the army, then to the Carters, and then living a false life with Whitney. Then Stuart, with Ben in and out of the house as a constant. 

Now, though, he’s alone, and it’s getting to him. 

-

“How you been doing, then?” Lola asks. It’s Friday, so they’re on call. Ben’s apparently just gone to pick up some food, so it’s just Lola on the screen, with the sound of one of Lexi’s movies in the background. He’s not caught sight of Phil yet, which he’s glad of. 

“Yeah, yeah, not too bad,” he says plastering a smile on his face. “Keeping busy. How’s Lexi doing?”

He’s deflecting. He knows that, Lola probably knows it too. Either way, she doesn’t say anything which he’s grateful for.

“Keeping us all busy with her antics, obviously,” Lola says with a grin. Callum ignores the way jealousy burns through him momentarily at the fact that they’re all together, and he’s alone. 

_ It was your idea _ , he reminds himself.  _ Stop being selfish. _

“Teaching us all bits of sign, too,” Lola says, and Callum can’t help but smile. “Spending lots of time with her dad.”

“Yeah?” Callum replies. “How’s he doing?”

Lola sighs, but it’s not all too exasperated, in the way it used to be when she talked about Ben. “Getting there, I think. He’s starting to sit down with Lexi and learn some stuff, which is good. Misses you like crazy though.”

“He said that?” Callum asks, and he can feel the way his ears start to burn red from embarrassment.

“Not explicitly, but I can tell,” Lola says. “Female intuition.”

Callum laughs and it is a genuine laugh. The feeling of being missed, being wanted- it’s a feeling he’s been chasing his whole life. The fact that he’s found it, in Ben-

_ Not if he knew what you were doing. _

The thought shoots through him unexpectedly. It sends a shiver down his spine, makes his hands shake, his heart ache for reassurance. He feels sick with himself, guilt wracking it’s way through his mind and body for a minute, burning hot and bright. The thought’s right, though- Ben would hate him if he knew what Callum had really done. He’d be  _ disgusted _ . 

Callum’s disgusted with himself. He’s going to throw them away, as soon as he’s off the call. 

“Callum?” Lola’s voice tears him out of his own mind. “You alright?”

“What?” he says, before he notices the look of concern on her face. He shifts his hands just out of the frame where they’re starting to shake, and smiles. “Sorry, just- thinking.” 

Lola’s face shifts quickly from one of concern to one of playful disgust. 

“Oh my God, you two have been- you were thinking about him weren’t you?” Lola laughs. “I don’t need to know what the two of you get up to, thank you Callum.”

He laughs in response. It’s fake, but it convinces her. Before anything else can be said, she’s turning away from the camera to the direction of the front door. 

Callum takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. The last thing he needs to do is worry Ben. 

He opens his eyes again, and Ben shifts into the frame. Callum plasters on a smile. 

He’s  _ fine. _

-

Callum thinks he’s going to go insane, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He should sleep, he knows he should. Last time he looked at the clock it was at least 1am, and he’s got a shift at the station tomorrow – well, today. Yet- every time he tries to close his eyes there are images behind his eyelids, things he desperately wants to forget. He just wants to  _ sleep _ , fucking hell. It shouldn’t be this hard. 

He closes his eyes and reaches across to the other side of the bed, as if by some miracle it won’t be freezing cold, just like it has been for months now. Callum wouldn’t exactly think of himself as a clingy boyfriend most of the time, but right now he can’t get the phrase ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ out of his head. It’s driving him crazy, not being able to properly be with Ben. Sure, there’s Zoom calls and socially distanced meetings outside the Mitchell house, but none of it’s the same as curling into Ben at night, finding the other man’s warmth next to him. There’s nothing that’s as comforting as waking up to find the man you love next to you, sound asleep and safe, and Callum misses him like crazy. He’s told Ben all of this, to some extent- not the entirety of what Ben’s absence has done to him, but the fact that he’s missed, and it always makes Ben smile that soft smile he loves, and remind him that Callum is missed too, and not just by Ben, but by Lola and Lexi too. 

Now, though, when it’s gone midnight and he hasn’t slept in too long, at a time in the morning when it’s not exactly socially acceptable to call Ben, the cold mattress beside him makes him want to cry. He just- needs someone to remind him that he’s not nearly as alone as he feels, remind him that he’s  _ safe.  _ At that thought, a tear actually does roll down his cheek. He hasn’t mentioned it to Ben yet – not that he’s planning to, the other man has enough on his mind right now – but he’s been having more and more nightmares. He thinks it’s probably a reaction to stress, or change, or the fact that the man he loves isn’t there to hold him anymore, but he’s gone from having one every so often, maybe every fortnight, to having them most nights. He hates it, but he’s scared to go to sleep now. He won’t tell Ben because what kind of grown man is scared to sleep alone at night? It’s ridiculous, and he’s so fucking embarrassed, so he suffers through it alone. 

It’s better that way, because that way he’s not making anyone else worry about him. Even though the only thing he wants right now is to not be alone, besides maybe some sleep-

But there’s no one here. Not even Stuart and Rainie snoring in the next room to remind him that he doesn’t have to feel lonely. He regrets every decision he made before lockdown, every single time that he’d insisted to both Stuart and Ben that he’ be fine on his own, that he loved having a quiet house, all to himself. The whole flat feels suffocating now, filled with this tense silence that makes him want to scream. What he wouldn’t give right now to hear Lexi singing from the living room, or even baby Abi crying her little lungs out, anything to distract from his own mind that’s thriving in the solitude. 

There is a solution, though. A solution that’s been stuffed into his wallet for a few days now, one that he’d found at the station. It’s terrible, awful of him, and the guilt burns through him like fire every time he thinks about it- 

_ His eyes feel like they’re burning. That could well be because he’s probably not slept a full night since last week, but it’s more than likely that it’s because he’s been stood in the same spot staring for what feels like hours now. He’s just brought someone in on a suspected thievery charge. They’re in a holding cell now, and anything else is above his paygrade. He’d just been told to take their stuff to the lockup, put it away and drop the key to the locker back at reception. Except- _

_ Things are never that simple.  _

_ Just as he’d been putting the backpack into one of the lockers, one of the zips fell open and emptied the contents of one of the pockets onto the floor.  _

_ “Oh, for-“ he’d sighed, because he’s probably at that point where every little minor inconvenience in his life is like climbing a mountain, and a part of him just wanted to sit on the floor and cry. He’s just so fucking  _ tired _ , he just needs some fucking sleep- _

_ He’d bent down regardless to pick the stuff up from the floor and slip it back into the bag when the last thing caught his eye, and he’s not moved since. It’s a little silver blister packet with twelve neatly lined up circles on it. Something in him recognises the name, although he can’t quite recall where from. Maybe it’s from that episode of Holby City he’d been watching last night. Either way, he knows exactly what they are- sleeping pills. Usually prescribed, but, like most things, sold in much worse places than pharmacies. He should just put them back in the backpack really, or better yet, report them to his boss in case the guy in the cell knows about more than just sleeping pills. It’s stupid, but he can’t quite bring himself to let go of them. He looks over his shoulder, but the corridor is quiet.  _

_ He takes them in his hand, throws everything else in the locker, and turns back to the cell.  _

_ - _

_ The man inside is tall, a little taller than Callum when he’s stood up straight (which is impressive, because he’s not exactly short himself) and lean, with a clean shaven head and dark stubble on his chin. He’s sitting with a familiar confidence, like being sat in the cell doesn’t faze him at all, like he’s sure he’ll be back out in time for his dinner. It reminds him a little of Ben, but how Ben used to be, back before they got together. He shakes that thought aside, though, because if he’s going to talk to this guy he can’t be thinking about Ben while he does it.  _

_ The man, Eric, Callum thinks his name was, looks up when Callum opens the cell door and closes it behind him, then checks the corridor again. Empty.  _

_ “You guys had your fun yet? Because I can guarantee you won’t find anything, mate, and I’d quite like to get home for the footie,” Eric smirks, then his eye must catch on the packet in Callum’s hand. “Now, now, where did you get that?”  _

_ “Your bag. Want to explain?” Callum says with confidence he doesn’t have.  _

_ “Ain’t it an invasion of privacy to go through someone’s belongings, Officer?” he says, and the smug tone of his voice makes Callum shudder.  _

_ “What are they?” Callum says. _

_ “Just a little something to help someone sleep, all legal I promise,” Eric replies. “Why, you interested?” _

_ Callum flinches- surely he’s not  _ that  _ obvious? The man grins anyway, like he can see right through him.  _

_ “I tell you what,” Eric says. “Why don’t you keep them? No strings attached.” _

_ “I ain’t an addict,” Callum says, and it’s defensive, all too defensive. Anyone could probably see through him, clear as fucking day.  _

_ “I never said you were, officer. It’s just a…” he pauses for a second. “Generous offer, man to man.” _

_ Callum doesn’t say anything. He’s not exactly going to admit to a  _ criminal _ that he’s tempted. He sighs, running a hand through his hair.  _

_ “I don’t need help from you,” Callum says, and he hopes that his voice doesn’t betray him. By the way that Eric’s face builds into even more of a smirk, he’s failed miserably. “Someone will be along to interview you soon. I’ll dispose of these for you.” _

_ “Sure you will,” Eric mutters. It burns anger mixed with embarrassment through his veins, but he doesn’t turn back. He closes the cell again, and walks back down the corridor to where his stuff is so he can just be done with the day.  _

But, he thinks, it could be worse. It’s only sleeping pills.

He takes the blister pack out of his wallet. There’s four left from a pack of twelve. 

He hesitates, just for a minute. Fuck it. He pops two out and puts them in his mouth, before shoving the packet back in his wallet and his wallet back on the nightstand. He falls back onto his pillow, arms blocking out the light that’s already starting to seep into the room. 

Just this once. But then again he said that before; just this once, twice, three times-

He’ll throw them away tomorrow. 

He will. 

Delightful blackness consumes his vision. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s not proud of it. Of course he’s not, but it works. 
> 
> He’s slept a clear seven hours when he wakes up. The feeling of the cold mattress next to him still burns disappointment in his veins, but it’s easier to ignore now because he can think somewhat clearly. He checks his phone, and there’s a new notification from Ben which makes him smile. 
> 
> Ben: good morning, hope you slept ok. have a good day at work, Lex can’t wait to see you later xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw - drug use, it has a slightly creepy ending pertaining to criminal activity but like it's nothing graphic?

He’s not proud of it. Of course he’s not, but it  _ works.  _

He’s slept a clear seven hours when he wakes up. The feeling of the cold mattress next to him still burns disappointment in his veins, but it’s easier to ignore now because he can think somewhat clearly. He checks his phone, and there’s a new notification from Ben which makes him smile. 

_ Ben: good morning, hope you slept ok. have a good day at work, Lex can’t wait to see you later xx _

It makes this wave of warmth overtake him, and he can’t stop himself from smiling into Ben’s pillow. The thought of Lexi actually missing him is enough to make his morning, because he’s missed the crazy little girl more than he’d care to admit, especially considering he’s not her parent. 

(He wants to be, but he’s not ready to admit that out loud yet.)

He hesitates before replying, when he’s re-reading the message. It’s the ‘hope you slept okay’ that gets him, because they’ve promised not to lie to each other. Then again, it’s not technically a lie. He did sleep well last night-

-eventually, and not on his own-

-but  _ it’s not a fucking lie. _ That’s the most important thing. He sighs, blocks that train of thought from his mind and turns back to his phone. 

_ Callum: Good morning babe, I slept well, I hope you did too,  _ he types, and ignores the way guilt burns through his chest.  _ Tell Lex that I miss her and that I can’t wait to see her too. And you, of course xx _

He sends the message, and throws his phone onto the nightstand. It clatters into something else, which falls onto the floor. Callum leans over the side of the bed – Ben’s side of the bed, Ben’s  _ cold _ side of the bed – and looks onto the floor, where his wallet is lying. 

And where the pack of sleeping pills has fallen out next to it. 

He has to close his eyes against the way shame shoots through him. This whole thing- it’s  _ ridiculous, _ ridiculous that he’s doing this, ridiculous that he’s been risking everything just because he can’t sleep. It’s  _ pathetic, _ is what it is, and he hates himself for it, more than he ever has. 

He’ll bin them. This is just a blip, a minor lapse in judgement. He’ll be fine. 

He pulls himself out of bed, ignoring the way that the sunlight coming through the window is catching the silver of the pill packet on the floor, making it impossible for him to ignore. Instead of embarrassment its anger that burns through him now, anger at his life, anger at himself for being so insufferably weak. He grabs the packet off the floor, crunches it up in his hand and walks to the bin in the kitchen. Callum opens the lid and throws them in, slamming it shut again. 

He takes a deep breath. No more. 

-

His day is long, more than anything. It’s easier doing it with at least some sleep, but there’s still that residual feeling of shame underpinning everything. He powers through nonetheless, and his boss seems in a relatively good mood, so that’s something. The thing that gets him through the day, though, is the thought of seeing Ben at the end of it. It’s almost five by the time he’s leaving the station, and he’s never been happier to end the day – he loves his job, of course he does, but it does get tedious from time to time, especially when the thought of finally seeing your boyfriend, albeit from two metres away, is hanging in your mind. 

He’s already changed out of most of his gear and heading towards the door, when the receptionist calls him back. 

“Some guy left his number for you,” he says, in a voice that reflects his own boredom. “Didn’t say who.”

By the tone of the other man’s voice, he’s not sure whether that’s because the person actually didn’t give their name, which doesn’t seem likely, or because the man can’t be bothered to remember it. Callum wouldn’t exactly blame him if it was the latter. 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Callum says, offering the receptionist a smile as he takes the small slip of paper. It’s only got a phone number on, scribbled in black pen. Most likely, it’s one of the other detectives about a case or something similar, but he doesn’t care enough at that point to actually think about it. He pockets it, and turns back to the main doors and out into the cooling air. 

-

He’s showered, dressed and back out of the door in record time, and he can’t stop smiling. He walks the familiar route across the square, and suddenly it hits him straight in the chest how much things have changed. All of the market stalls are completely dormant, lifeless and untouched for weeks, when usually at this time they’d still be teeming with the last of the day’s energy. The chatter of people that he’s used to is gone, and it strikes loneliness into his chest. The square has been his home for over two years now. There’s so much that he’s gotten used to over all that time, so many little things that have just become part of his daily life that are gone now. He misses the way he’d wave to Whitney when she was on her stall in the mornings, or the way he’d shove his head into the Vic to say hello to the Carters, but end up staying for a pint. Of course, that’s gone for good now, which is a weird enough adjustment on it’s own. He just misses so much of life on Albert Square, more than he anticipated he would do. 

The buzz of his phone in his pocket pulls him out of the sort of melancholy reverie he’s in. He pulls it out of his pocket to a new text message from Ben.

_ Ben: come on lazy arse, Lexi won’t sit still xx _

He can’t help but smile at that- he’ll cling as tight as he likes to this little bit of almost-normality. He speed walks the rest of the walk to the door of the Mitchell household, where he can already hear Lexi. He opens up the gate-

His heart almost bursts. There’s one of the kitchen chairs, with a bedsheet draped over it, sat just in front of the wall, behind the gate. The door is wide open, and Ben’s sat on the doorstep, Lexi sat on his knee, and Callum thinks it’s the most domestic his boyfriend has ever looked. There’s a completely blissed out smile on his face as he’s staring at Lexi. She’s saying something to him and signing along with her words, but Callum doesn’t get enough chance to work out what it is before Lexi notices him.

“Callum!” she cries out, and she’s almost running to give him a hug before she stops herself, and just waves instead. It catches Ben’s attention, and he turns to look at Callum. The look on his face- it’s pure, unadulterated  _ bliss _ , and it lights up his face, makes his eyes sparkle in the way Callum loves. He thinks it’s the most beautiful Ben’s ever looked. 

“Alright darlin’?” Callum says, and he can feel his ears start to heat up at the way Ben’s gaze is directed to him. He waves back at Lexi, then pushes the gate shut behind him and slides into the chair next to him. “How’s everyone?”

“Dad and me learnt more sign today!” Lexi says excitedly, then turns back to Ben. 

_ Show Callum?  _ she signs to him, and he nods. The two of them turn slightly to Callum, and he’s somewhat worried for a minute- if Ben’s been learning sign, fuck knows what sort of obscene thing he’s learnt. 

He needn’t be, though, not at all. Instead, the two of them sign at each other for a minute, speaking as they sign, and Lexi looks over every so often to make sure Callum’s watching. It’s a simple conversation- Lexi greets Ben, spells out her name and asks for his, and he spells out his own name, then asks Lexi how she is. She answers, and returns the question. It’s the most beautiful thing to watch, the way Ben interacts with his daughter. It’s in moments like these when Callum can’t see how anyone could doubt Ben’s skills as a father. You could say so much about Ben Mitchell, and, yes, half of it would probably be true, but it would be a blatant lie to say that he has anything but complete adoration for Lexi, and it’s clearer than day that she loves him just as much.

He sighs, and slips his hands in his jacket pockets while he watches them. His right hand hits his wallet, and he’s reminded of what had been hidden in there just that morning. It makes guilt stab through his chest, that he’d done that when there’s these two beautiful people that he’s letting down. He takes his hands out of his pockets.

When they’re done, the two of them turn to him, excitement on their faces. Callum claps and whoops, and he doesn’t have it in him to care that he’s probably being obnoxiously loud, because it makes both of them laugh, and, fuck, he’s missed Ben’s laugh. 

“I’m so proud of you!” he says and signs, albeit a little awkwardly. Lexi laughs and bounces up and down where she’s standing a little, and Ben just looks at him, because Ben knows Callum means so much more than just that at face value. He’s glad Ben does get it, because he doesn’t think he really has the words, especially not in front of Lexi, or from two metres away. 

It makes emotion well up in his chest; emotion that he’s sure is reflected in Ben’s face. He’s not sure what to say next until he’s rescued by a cheery voice from the end of the corridor. 

“Alright, Callum?” Lola calls from just behind Ben, and there’s a definite smile on her face when she sees Ben and Lexi together. 

“Yeah, alright thanks,” Callum says. “These two have been showing me their signing.”

Lexi ends up turned to Lola, excitedly talking to her about something, and Ben just looks at him. 

_ You alright? _ Ben mouths at him, and there’s a hint on concern on his face. Callum’s suddenly  _ so _ conscious of the bags under his eyes, the way his muscles are still a little tired, because, yes, he got seven hours of sleep last night but he also did an eight hour shift today and he’s exhausted all over again. He smiles, though, because he  _ is _ fine. 

_ Yeah, long day. I missed you, _ he mouths back, hoping Ben doesn’t pick up on the quick subject change. He mustn’t, because he smiles back at Callum with the purest smile. 

_ Yeah, I missed you too,  _ he replies. Then, he moves his other hand from where it’s protectively around Lexi and signs to Callum, three words that they’d both learnt months ago.

_ I love you. _

It makes Callum’s heart race, even now. The fact that he has Ben, the fact that he’s got this wonderful man who really  _ loves  _ him- it still shocks him now. 

(He refuses to think about how he’s probably only gone and ruined it with what he’s done)

_ I love you too, _ he signs back, and Ben’s smile is worth it all. 

-

Going back home to an empty flat after spending the whole evening with Ben and Lexi- it’s nothing short of painful. The quiet is oppressive, and it feels like there’s never enough air in the room, no matter how many windows he opens. All it does is remind him of what he’s missing, the people that he’s without right now. He ends up sat in just a t-shirt and boxers in front of the television, in a dark room. He's starving, and he doesn’t have the energy to cook right now so he picks up his phone and the website for pizza. 

He walks over to pick up his jacket, and puts his hand on the pocket. He pulls out his wallet-

- _ stop fucking thinking about it – _

_ - _ and goes to open it when a little slip of paper falls out. He listens to the way his back cracks when he leans down to pick it up – fuck, is he really getting old? – and turns it over to see the number that had been left for him at the police station. 

Fuck, he might as well figure out what it’s about. It’s better than wallowing in self-pity all evening.

He orders his food first, then inputs the number on the paper into his phone. He counts three rings before it connects. 

“Hello,” he says down the phone, and tries desperately not to sound as exhausted as he feels. “I’m Callum Highway, this number was left for me at Walford Station?”

There’s a pause, before a laugh on the other end of the line. “Well, well, I wondered if you’d call.”

“I’m sorry, who is this?” Callum replies, even though the laugh alone sends a shiver down his spine. 

“It’s Eric, mate. Got out yesterday. Thought maybe I’d pass on my number, just in case you wanted some more of those sleeping pills,  _ officer _ .”

Callum can’t breathe. He  _ can’t fucking breathe, _ for a minute, because he’s so fucking  _ stupid. _

“I told you, I threw them away. Delete this number,” he says, then hangs up the phone and throws it to the armchair on the other side of the room. 

Suddenly, he’s not all that hungry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooh it gettin suspicious...  
> also i couldn't resist putting a little bit of lexi+callum in there (and yes i changed it to be 'alright, darlin' after tuesday's (?) ep because i couldn't not) so i hope you enjoyed that. comments/kudos mean the world, and i hope you enjoyed! see you in the next one :)  
> leo x (@artsy-highway on tumblr)


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s pathetic. 
> 
> (There’s a hint of his dad’s voice in that thought, and he tries unsuccessfully to ignore it). 
> 
> There’s a solution, of course-
> 
> But he’s not doing that again. He knows that, he can’t risk doing it again. It’s enough that he’s done it not once, but too many fucking times, now Eric’s got his phone number, and he could do anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw - drug use, guilt, a whole lotta self hate on Callum's part

_ 3:37AM _

The clock is screaming at him at this point, mocking him, begging him to stop looking, close his eyes just for a minute. Every time he looks over he’s counting the minutes until he’s supposed to be getting up again, as if that’s going to help him get to sleep. He’s tried – _fuck,_ _has he tried –_ but it’s no use. Every time he closes his eyes, there’s _something_ else there. Mostly it’s the thought of Ben, the thought of losing him. Every _what-if_ whirring in his own mind, running around in circles and playing every so often like ads on a TV screen. He just- he _needs_ to figure out some way to shut it off, stop his brain from thinking. He would just imagine Ben was here with him, wrap his arms around what should be Ben’s pillow (it’s awfully sad, but he’ll try anything at this point) but then there’ll be something else. Memories of Chris that haven’t haunted him in years, or his dad, or Keanu- memories of fear, of regret, of hating himself _so damn much_ , so much all at once that it just makes him hate himself even more now. He’s a grown fucking man, and this is still an issue for him- can’t even sleep without his boyfriend. It’s pathetic. 

(There’s a hint of his dad’s voice in that thought, and he tries unsuccessfully to ignore it). 

There’s a solution, of course-

But he’s not doing that again. He knows that, he  _ can’t  _ risk doing it again. It’s enough that he’s done it not once, but too many fucking times, now Eric’s got his phone number, and he could do anything. He could report him, for fuck’s sake. Sure, it would be Callum’s word over a criminal’s, but Callum’s got no way to prove that he didn’t. Then, say, they were to make him take a drug test. Callum doesn’t even know how _long_ shit like this would last in his system. Then what happens if it gets picked up? He’ll lose his job, Ben will find out-  _ fuck,  _ Ben will find out. Ben will leave him, he’ll lose the love of his life. Of course, he’d never see Lexi again, that sweet, innocent little girl, and he’ll be no better than his dad-

He realises what he’s doing as soon as the thought of his dad creeps into his head. He’s stood in front of the bin, pills in his shaking hand and two already on his tongue. He’s so fucking  _ ashamed _ , what the fuck is he doing? They’re dissolving slowly in his mouth, leaving a bitter taste there. He’s on autopilot when he grabs a glass from the drying rack and fills it up under the tap. The water’s freezing when he swallows it, and the guilt burns down his throat alongside the sleeping pills. Suddenly there’s anger burning through his veins, hot fury that’s so unlike him, and probably so like his dad that it makes him feel sick. He wants to shout, scream, smash the glass that’s in his hand but he doesn’t, because he just doesn’t have the energy for it. He puts the glass down on the side and rubs shaking hands over his face harshly. His cheeks are wet, and he hadn’t even realised he was crying. 

Callum sighs, and looks around at the flat. It’s dark, lit just slightly by the street lamp that’s just outside the window. It’s quiet and frighteningly lonely, filled with too much emptiness that it steals his breath, so much so that he just can’t bear to look at it any more. He treks over to the bathroom, and by the time he’s sat on his side of the bed again, the pills are starting to kick in. It’s like- for a moment he can see why people do this, why he’s letting himself doing it. His mind is starting to clear, overtaking thoughts like clouds rolling in. After the last few hours it’s bliss, that quiet at last. Callum puts his head pack on the pillow and curls up back under the covers. 

He comes to the conclusion that maybe this isn’t so bad, as long as he controls it. 

It’s that blissful dark again. 

-

He’s woken up by the buzzer going off incessantly. He groans, because there’s a slight pounding in his head and the sound of the buzzer is grating on his nerves. There’s light flooding into his bedroom when he opens his eyes, in a way that it never usually is when he wakes up. It’s usually gentler, in a way that he used to only exist in dreams. Slow mornings, the beginnings of the day shining through the window. The feeling of the man he loves lying next to him, kissing sleep-soft lips and sharing little secrets in the half light, before the chaos of the day creeps into the house. This is nothing like it- it’s harsh, and violent, and with none of that usual gentleness. There’s nothing but the sound of the buzzer to remind him that he’s not alone. He sighs, and he wants nothing more than to turn over and go back to sleep, wake up when he can wake up next to Ben again, but the buzzer won’t stop. 

Wait- the buzzer. 

_ The fucking buzzer. _

He pulls himself out of bed as soon as it hits him. He runs across the flat over to the phone, and grabs it off the wall. 

“What? Sorry, sorry, who is it?” Callum says, and he knows it’s barely coherent but he just wants to go back to sleep. 

“Callum, what are you playing at?” It’s Stuart’s voice at the other end of the phone, sounding confused, and angry, and it makes Callum’s heart race just a little. 

“What? Stu, what’s going on?”

“Callum, you were supposed to meet me and Rainie down the park two hours ago. What you playing at?” 

“Stuart, that wasn’t until 1,” he sighs, exasperated, because he really just doesn’t have the energy for this. There’s a pause, and for a minute Callum thinks Stuart has finally left him in peace. 

“Your clock broken or something bruv? It’s almost half three.”

He almost hangs up on him until he catches sight of the clock hung across the room, above the television. He’s right. Callum’s slept through the  _ whole day _ , near enough. It’s because of those fucking pills. And he’s still exhausted, it doesn’t make any sense. 

“I’m sorry, Stu, I’m coming now,” he says, and hooks the phone back to the wall. 

-

“I’m so sorry, Stu, think I just lost track of time,” Callum says as he locks up the door. Stuart and Rainie are standing on the other side of the street and he feels somewhat self-conscious with it. It feels like they’re scrutinising him, watching every time he moves. It’s probably just the fact that they haven’t seen each other in months. It’s probably not helped by the fact that Callum has just rolled out of bed (which he has, but Stuart doesn’t need to know that). 

“Right,” he says as he turns around. “Let’s go.”

The minute he looks back at them, though, Stuart’s face changes. It’s a look of concern, one that he’s not seen on his brother in a long time, and it makes his skin prickle under the attention. 

“You alright, bruv? You’ve got bags under your eyes as long as my arm,” he says, and he laughs at the end of it but there’s that seriousness to it, that undertone that makes him shiver because he  _ hates _ it when people worry about him. He hasn’t looked at himself in the mirror for a little while, but it can’t be that bad, right?

He catches himself in the window of the funeral parlour, and- fuck. He looks- well, he looks how he feels, really. Like he needs sleep more than anything, which is ridiculous because he’s just been asleep all day. 

Maybe it’s-

_ No.  _ He’s fine. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, just- draining me down at the station, lots of long shifts,” he lies easily, too easily that it scares him a little, but Stuart believes him, and that worried look is replaced by one of pride.

“Oh yeah? Go on, good for you mate, doing your bit and all,” he says. “Well, we won’t keep you long, you could probably do with the fresh air an’ all.” 

-

Somehow, Stuart’s right. The fresh air does do him good. Even so, by the time he gets back to the door of his flat he’s dreading going back in, dreading having to go back to a silent, empty flat. They end up stood outside the door talking for a while, Callum bringing up everything he can to distract Stuart. It’s selfish, he knows that- he’s sure his brother has better things to do than spend the rest of his afternoon with Callum, but he can’t help it. The last thing he wants is to be alone right now. He hates to even admit it to himself, but the things he can remember from the night before, the things he’d felt terrify him, almost more than the nightmares. What scares him even more is the fact that he’s spent all day thinking about the number that’s still on a piece of paper on his coffee table, and the fact that there’s only one dose left in the packet that he’s already got. 

He can’t call him. He  _ can’t _ want to do this, for fuck’s sake. He can’t want this. 

“Callum, are you sure you’re okay?” 

The sound of Stuart’s voice shocks him out of his thoughts. His brother is looking at him, that same concern from earlier painted across his face. It’s not like he  _ wants  _ to lie to Stuart. He hates lying to anyone, mainly because most of the time he’s terrible at it. Not about this, though. It scares him that he’s so used to lying about whether he’s okay. 

“Yeah, Stu, I’m fine, I promise. Just weird, being without you lot,” he says eventually, because it’s the closest to a truth he can get, and it satisfies Stuart. 

“Aw, I miss you too,” he says, and starts to go in for a hug before he stops himself. That, alone, is more painful than it should be. “Look, we ought to be getting back, get dinner on. You look after yourself, yeah?” 

“Yeah, you too Stu,” he replies. “Love you.”

Stuart smiles back at him. “I love you too, brother.” 

-

There’s a text waiting for him on his phone as soon as he gets out of the shower. It’s from Ben, and the sight of his name on Callum’s phone screen both cures and prolongs his longing, somehow simultaneously. 

_ Ben: hey babe, how was your time with Stuart? hope you had a good day. miss you x  _

He smiles, and starts typing back straight away. 

_ Callum: hey, it was nice thanks, Stuart seems to be doing good, how was your day? Lexi doing okay? miss you too, and Lex obviously x _

He presses send, and throws his phone back onto the sofa with a sigh. The whole flat is too quiet, so he turns the TV on, if only for a little bit of noise, and walks over to his bedroom. 

-

_ It’s easier this way, _ he tells himself. This way he doesn’t have to fight it, doesn’t have to risk accidently doing something he’ll regret. This way, he can control it properly. It doesn’t have to get out of hand. 

He’s stood at the kitchen counter, pill packet in his hand. There’s a glass full of water next to him, too. 

It’s a split second decision- he stops thinking about Ben, stops thinking about the guilt that’s burning through his body because he can’t even deal with a few months alone. He just- forces himself to stop thinking. He pops the pills out of their packet and swallows them down, ice cold water making his whole body shiver. 

He hides the empty packet in the bin, buried amongst the other rubbish. In the morning, he’ll sort everything else out. It’ll be fine. 

It’s scary enough that now he has to convince himself of that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point i just wanna give the boy a hug fucking hell   
> anyways! hope you enjoyed this update, youre more than welcome to come shout at me over on tumblr if you like heh (it's artsy-highway btw), love yall, stay safe! comments/kudos mean the world <3  
> leo x


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hands won’t stop shaking. They’re stuffed in his hoodie pockets, but he can feel the way they tremble through the fabric, which means it’ll be clear as day to anyone else. He looks scared, and he hates that. Of course, it’s true – he is scared, terrified of what’s happening to him, but it’s more than that. There’s anger starting to boil in his veins, which is dangerous. 
> 
> He knows only too well what can happen when Highway men let their anger take control, and he will not become his father. 
> 
> He quickly pushes away the thought in his mind, the one that tells him that he’s already on his way there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw - mentions of drug use, anger (as a result of drug use, it's apparently a symptom, look at me actually doing research), slightly creepy criminal stuffs at the end ig? slight description of a panic attack

“Highway, I have a job for you.” 

Callum can’t help but sigh when DI Thompson walks over to where he’s sat in the staff room. He’d just wanted to sit quietly with his cup of tea for a minute, attempt to cure himself of the headache that’s been pulsing at his temples all morning. His boss isn’t  _ that _ bad, really, he’s just- annoying, to the point of ignorance at times. But it’s fine, Callum’s put up with that kind of man his whole life, it’s no change. 

He plasters on a fake smile and turns around to face the man. “Morning, Sir.”

The man smiles at him, but it’s not the comforting kind of smile that comes with genuine happiness, or genuine appreciation – the kind of smile that he gets from Ben, the one he’s so sorely missed – it’s just bordering on fake, arrogance sewn through it. Callum can never tell if the man actually likes him or not. He plays nice anyway, for the sake of it. 

“That guy that was brought in, suspected B&E a few days ago,” he says, throwing an open file to the table in front of Callum. “Eric Carlisle. Thought maybe you could track him down.” 

There’s a mugshot on the picture in front of him. It’s somewhat grainy, but it’s definitely the same man. He’s even got that same smirk on his face, that look that sends a shiver down Callum’s spine. 

“What’s he suspected of?” he asks, in a desperate attempt to distract from the fact that his hands won’t stop shaking under the table. 

“Dealing, not class A, but we want to get him before he progresses,” Thompson says with a sigh. “You up for it?”

It takes a few seconds before it hits him, because maybe this is just the perfect opportunity. He’d be  _ doing his job _ , tracking Eric, and he can keep control of his  _ issue _ at the same time. 

“Of course, sir,” he says, and Thompson smiles back at him. 

“Good lad. Come on, I’ll show you what we’ve got on him.” 

-

“You sure you’re up for this?” 

The finality in DI Thompson’s voice brings his mind right back to where he doesn’t want to be, sat in the older man’s office, files strewn across the table in front of him. He knows he should be concentrating- fuck, it’s a real opportunity, the first time DI Thompson has really trusted him with anything, and he can’t stop thinking about all the ways he could fuck it up. Well, he reckons zoning out in his boss’s office probably isn’t the best start. 

The DI is still waiting for an answer, though, staring at him with expectation in his face, and Callum’s hopeless to say what he’s really thinking- that  _ no,  _ he’s really not up for it, he’s so far out of his depth that he can’t even see the shore any more, and he’s drowning, slowly and what he’s spent the last few weeks doing is proof enough, clear proof that he’s not ready. But he’s never been good at saying no to people. 

“Of course, sir. I’m ready, I promise,” he says with a smile, and clearly it’s what the other man wants to hear, because he grins. 

“You’ll be great, Callum. Keep me posted,” Thompson says, and stands up, and it’s a clear sign for Callum to leave. All the blood rushes to his head when he stands up, and he shoves shaking hands back into his jacket pockets. It’s all part of the act, and Thompson is willing enough to believe it. 

-

His hands won’t stop shaking. They’re stuffed in his hoodie pockets, but he can feel the way they tremble through the fabric, which means it’ll be clear as day to anyone else. He looks  _ scared,  _ and he hates that. Of course, it’s true – he  _ is  _ scared, terrified of what’s happening to him, but it’s more than that. There’s anger starting to boil in his veins, which is dangerous. 

He knows only too well what can happen when Highway men let their anger take control, and he will not become his father. 

He quickly pushes away the thought in his mind, the one that tells him that he’s already on his way there. 

He focuses instead on the way the cold bites into the skin at the back of his neck, the skin that Ben usually covers when he kisses Callum. The way that the contrast between the two memories of touch is so huge, so painful that he can’t stop thinking about what Ben would say if he knew Callum was doing this. He’d tell him to stop, Callum’s sure of that. He’d probably ask him why he’s doing this to himself, why he didn’t just  _ say something _ ?

Right now, he’s asking himself the same question. 

_ Because he’d hate you, _ some voice in his mind says.  _ He’d never forgive you for being so weak. _

The thought of confessing is gone in a heartbeat. He’s fine. He can keep this under control, just until he can see Ben again properly, until he can finally sleep next to the man he loves. 

The cold hits the back of his neck again, and he’s brought crashing back to the alley he’s stood in. He can’t be afraid. He has to do this. 

There’s footsteps from one end of the alley, the end that he’s looking towards. No turning back now. 

“Evening, officer,” Eric’s voice drawls, and there’s that overconfident lilt to it that’s strikingly similar to Ben’s tone when they first met, so much so that it makes him feel sick, sick and the thought of thinking of his own boyfriend like that. 

“Alright?” he says, and there’s a shake in his voice that he  _ hates.  _

“You enjoyed my little gift then?” he says, and his green eyes burn into Callum, stare unforgivingly like he can see right through him. 

“Where they from?” he asks, and Eric lets out this laugh that sends shivers down his spine. 

“Why, you looking for some more?” 

Callum doesn’t say anything, and somehow that gives him away. 

“Only had to ask,” Eric whispers, and suddenly there’s a silver blister pack in his hand. It catches the little bit of light from the street lamp at the opposite end of the alley, and Callum’s fixated on it. He wants, so  _ so  _ desperately to be able to just ignore it but he can’t. He tries so hard, but his mind won’t let him look away. It’s terrifying, and maybe it should be even more scary that, in the moment, all he can think about is taking the packet from the other man’s hand, getting home and finally getting some fucking  _ sleep.  _ For a minute he forgets the fact that the man next to him is a criminal he’s supposed to be tracking, and he just thinks about finally sleeping tonight, allowing himself to just have this, to keep it under control and to  _ sleep,  _ finally. 

There’s a war waging in his mind, a battle that something in Callum’s starting to wonder if he’s strong enough to fight. 

He makes one last check down the alley, makes sure that, to his current mind, there’s no possible way this could blow up in his face, and catches the pill packet when Eric throws it at him. He looks at it for a minute, then shoves it in his hoodie pocket before he can think any more.

There’s a smug smile on Eric’s face a minute later, and before he can stop it a thought that‘s so not him it’s terrifying comes into his head-

Callum just wants to  _ hurt  _ him, so bad. Just wants to punch the satisfied little smirk off his face-

-and suddenly he can’t breathe. 

“I’ll see you around then, mate,” Eric says, and swaggers back down the alley, and away. 

Callum’s only just aware of it, right at the edge of his vision. He can’t quite tell if it’s the edges of his vision going black, or the shadows creeping in, waiting to engulf him. It’s terrifying, and suddenly the only place he wants to be right now is in Ben’s arms. He’s even about to start in that direction before the thought hits him again that he  _ can’t,  _ not as long as he wants to keep Lexi and Ben out of danger, on the off chance he’s caught something. And besides, Ben would never want to see him like this, not if he knew, and it appears as though Callum’s both an open book and a terrible liar. 

He’s alone, all over again. Just like he deserves. 

His breath’s catching in his throat when he slips down the wall, and the movement makes something slip out of his jacket pocket. It drops to the pavement below him, stark white against the grey of the floor. Callum picks it up the folded paper in shaking hands, and unfolds it carefully, and suddenly the memory comes rushing back to him. It had come through his letterbox this morning, slipped through in a bright pink envelope, carefully drawn out letters spelling his name across the front. It’s a picture, drawn in coloured pencil- him, Ben and Lexi, stood together, with the words ‘My Family’ across the top. 

It’s that that breaks him. 

Before he knows it he’s sobbing, covering his mouth on the off chance anyone else is there. This lovely little girl- she’s thinking of him, even though they’ve not properly spent time together in months. Ben will never trust him around her. He’d promised him, all those months ago that everything would be okay, that he would never let Lexi down-

_ “Would you ever want to meet Lexi?” Ben’s hesitant voice whispers. Callum’s head is on his chest and he’d almost been asleep, so the question catches him somewhat off guard. It’s out of the blue, or maybe for him it is. By the tone it sounds as though it’s something Ben’s been thinking over for a while, because there’s clear apprehension in his voice, in a way that just makes Callum want to hold him tighter. He turns so that he can track Ben’s face when he speaks.  _

_ “I, uh, I already did. She’s lovely, Ben, I saw Lola with her the other day,” Callum replies, and Ben closes his eyes with a little sigh, and that anxiousness is back on his face.  _

_ “No, I mean- I mean like properly, like- introducing you as my boyfriend,” Ben says, and the enormity of it all hits Callum straight in the chest. “It’s just- I don’t like introducing her to people, she gets attached so easily. Lola said before I should wait, until we’d been together a while, and, you know, it’s been a while, and I just- I want her to know you, ‘cause you’re a part of my life now, too.”  _

_ Ben’s words rattle around his head, echo there, and Callum never wants to stop hearing them. He’s asking to introduce Callum to his  _ daughter _ , which he’s gathered isn’t something he does easily. Callum’s seen (or, heard from Lola) just how protective the other man is of his daughter, and now Ben’s asking Callum if he wants to know her, be a part of her life in a way he surely only would if he properly cared about Callum. It’s a shock, for someone to so openly want him in their life like that, and maybe that’s a little sad but it’s incredible to Callum, incredible that Ben’s so willing to love him, and it feels so much like an honour. He knows there’s tears in his eyes, but he’s hopeless to stop them.  _

_ Callum shifts slightly so that he can watch Ben’s face as he talks. “I’d love to, Ben.” _

_ Ben smiles at him, and hopefully he can tell that the tears in Callum’s eyes are happy ones, because he wipes a stray one away with a gentle thumb. “Yeah?” _

_ “Yeah, Ben, of course,” Callum says, and Ben leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, and neither of them can stop smiling, and it’s perfect. They break away, and Ben holds him closer, strong arms wrapped around his back, holding the two of them close together, not a bit of space between them. Callum shifts his head back to Ben’s chest, and those three words cross his mind. Maybe soon, he thinks.  _

Callum thinks that maybe he's losing control, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo i broke my own heart writing this i warned u guys it gets sad :')  
> anyways! i hope youre enjoying this fic, leave me a comment if you like, what are your predictions? stay safe!!  
> leo x


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been nearly two weeks since he last saw Eric, and the man’s face is still stuck to the back of his eyelids. He’s not been sleeping properly, but then again that’s not exactly new. The pills- they’re something like his new normal. He’s not happy about it - fuck, he’s the opposite, he’s so fucking ashamed of it but it works - but he’s accepted it now. Like this, he can control it, he can make things better, so that no one he loves, no one that cares about him, ever has to find out. 
> 
> Or, that’s what he’s desperately trying to convince himself. He’s not all that sure it’s working. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw - just creepy-ness/intimidation I guess? criminal activity, mentions of the effects of drug use but no actual drug use?

Callum’s awoken by the ringtone on his phone blaring loud into the silent flat. He’s still groggy from sleep, and the hint of a headache from yesterday is still pulsing quietly at his temples. He sighs, and eases his eyes open against the light shining right through the window and across the room. His ringtone stops, and it leaves a sort of empty ringing in his head, accompanied just slightly by the distant sound of the rubbish truck driving away a couple of streets down. He’s about to roll back over, thinking it’s either a cold caller, or it’s not that important, when the buzzer for the flat starts ringing instead.

“Fuck,” he mutters before he can stop himself, because something in him just wants to be  _ alone _ , thinks maybe he deserves to be that way. He’s not sure where that thought comes from because he’s wanted nothing more than Ben’s arms around him for months, but he doesn’t have the energy to think too far into it. He picks up his phone, hoping that it’ll just be Stuart at the door and he can just send him away, but there’s four notifications from Ben instead. 

_ Ben: hey babe, look out your window x (8:39am) _

_ Ben: you still in bed? sleepy head. come on, I wanna see you <3 (8:56am) _

_ Ben: (1 missed call, 9:02am) _

_ Ben: Cal? x (9:05am) _

It makes guilt burn through him in a way that’s almost familiar to him now. Ben’s been waiting for him, been the perfect, caring boyfriend, and Callum’s too fucking selfish to even be awake for it. He sighs and clicks through to the text conversation to reply. 

_ Callum: hey, I’m so sorry, just woke up. on my way xx _

He pulls on the sweatshirt that he’d thrown off the night before and some soft trousers and runs towards the front of his flat. 

When he opens the front door, the breath leaves his chest for a minute. Ben’s stood a couple of metres from the front door, right in the strip where the light from the rising sun hits the pavement. It catches on his face, lights it up in a way that makes Callum think that Ben can’t possibly be real, can’t possibly be stood there looking like that and here to visit  _ him _ . There’s a soft smile on his face, but Callum can’t help but notice the way it wavers when he steps just outside of the door, and sits on the step because of the way his legs are shaking and he can’t quite keep his balance. It’s probably just from running out of bed so quickly, or maybe that’s just what he’s trying to tell himself. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he grins, head leaning on the doorframe. 

“Morning,” he says, and there’s a hint of worry in his voice, and Callum so desperately wants to be able to hug it away. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he says, and maybe he responds too quickly because there’s a momentary raising of Ben’s eyebrows that he only just catches. Ben starts to squint, so Callum signs along with his words, just in case. “You okay? What are you doing here?”

“I’m good, Cal, I just wanted to see you,” Ben replies, but Callum can tell there’s so much more than that. “Are you sure you’re okay? I really miss having you around.”

“I miss you too, so much,” he responds, and he’s hoping beyond hope Ben doesn’t pick up on his avoidance. He does, of course, because Ben knows him better than Callum ever thought anyone ever would. 

“I’m fine, Ben, I promise. I’m just tired from work,” he says, and it’s not a complete lie. “What’s got you so worried about me, anyway?”

Ben hovers for a minute, then looks at him with questioning in his eyes. Callum sighs a little, and repeats himself, repeats his own bluff. 

“I always worry about you,” Ben says after a minute, and he sighs after Callum just raises his eyebrows at him. “Just- your brother was worried about you, said you overslept, which you almost never do, and that you were acting weird.” 

“He’s just being overprotective, darlin', it's okay,” Callum says.

"Well, yeah, but it must have been founded on something-"

"Ben, seriously, just leave it, yeah?" Callum says, and his words are laced with anger that comes out of nowhere. It scares him, because that irritation has been seething under his skin for the past few days but he’s been able to control it. That, though- he  _ hates _ snapping at Ben at the best of times, but this just feels like another sign of something that’s a much bigger problem than this ever should’ve become. He looks up at Ben and catches the other man’s eyes- there’s hurt in them, and he looks like he’s recoiling and he’s so fucking mad that he’s the one that’s made Ben look like this, when all he’d done was worry about him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” Callum says, and Ben’s still frowning at him, and the hurt look is only growing, arms crossed against his chest, and now Callum’s starting to panic because somehow they’ve been here five minutes and he’s fucking it up already-

_ Sorry,  _ he signs, and Ben watches, tracks the movements of Callum’s shaking hands with careful eyes.  _ Don’t want to argue. I don’t like being alone.  _

It’s the first completely true thing Callum’s said, and it’s almost as if Ben can tell. His eyes widen a little when he works out what Callum’s said, and his whole demeanor softens- his arms uncross, drift down to hang at his sides, head tilting slightly in the way it does when Lexi’s sick, or when Callum says something particularly sappy. All that combined with the ever growing sunlight makes him look like the most beautiful man Callum’s ever seen, and  _ fuck, he’s missed this _ , just getting to look at Ben like this. 

Ben sighs, and runs a hand over the bottom half of his face before he slumps to sit against the edge of the pavement. 

“I hate the thought of you being on your own,” Ben says after a minute, and he’s staring at the road instead of Callum’s eyes. It’s Ben’s biggest tell, the one that Callum knows means he’s about to be vulnerable, something that he’s well aware Ben hates being. He’s getting better at it though- they both are. Or were, Callum thinks bitterly, because he’s done nothing but lie to Ben, and he’s so  _ ashamed  _ of it. “I worry about you because I love you, so much, and I can’t stop thinking about something happening to you when I can’t be there to help. And I know you’re not helpless, and that you’re independent enough to look after yourself-”

(Callum knows that’s not supposed to burn but it  _ does _ , and it feels so much like mocking, even though it’s not Ben’s fault at all.)

“-but I just want to be with you. And I can’t, so instead I just worry. So when your brother had seen you and said you were acting weird I just couldn’t stop thinking about you being all on your own, going through all of this, and- I just needed to see you for myself.”

When he’s done speaking, he doesn’t look up for a minute. He’s fidgeting with his fingers in front of him and that’s another tell, one that means he’s nervous. The words finally sink in to Callum, make a home under his skin and sit there, filling up his consciousness with the feeling of being loved wholeheartedly, and instead of making him feel warm like it used to, he just feels  _ empty. _

“I love you,” he says, and signs along with his words because he doesn’t know much else right now but at least this is blindingly true, and he needs Ben to know it. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

Ben nods at him, and there’s a small smile on his face. “I love you too.”

-

Callum ends up spending most of the rest of the day watching the sky grow darker. 

It’s been nearly two weeks since he last saw Eric, and the man’s face is still stuck to the back of his eyelids. He’s not been sleeping properly, but then again that’s not exactly new. The pills- they’re something like his new normal. He’s not happy about it -  _ fuck,  _ he’s the opposite, he’s so fucking ashamed of it but it  _ works _ \- but he’s accepted it now. Like this, he can control it, he can make things better, so that no one he loves, no one that cares about him, ever has to find out. 

Or, that’s what he’s desperately trying to convince himself. He’s not all that sure it’s working. 

At the very least, he’s keeping Thompson at bay. Recording what he can remember, pretending like the evidence just appears out of nowhere and Thompson believes him. He praises him, tells him he’s a great police officer and it makes him cringe because  _ if only he knew _ . 

He’s been sitting at the window pretty much ever since Ben had left. They’d parted ways as soon as he’d convinced Ben he was fine, told him that he loved him as many times as he could because that’s what he knows Ben deserves. Since then he’s just been watching as the sky over the square changes colours, from blue mottled with grey to streaks of orange and red then dark, oppressively so. The clouds had cleared leaving a blank sky, and it makes Callum wonder, not for the first time, what it would be like to be able to see the stars at night. The sky as it is is too dark, paints the universe above and around them as a void and it’s nights like this that it’s terrifying, the dark enormity of it. He wonders, again not for the first time, what it would be like to just see stars up there, millions of dots of brightness lighting up the void. He’s heard people looking up at them and feeling hope, feeling like everything’s going to be okay- he reckons he could do with some of that tonight. 

His phone beeps with a text and he’s torn away from the sky. He grabs it from where it’s resting on the table and taps onto the notification. 

_ Eric: tonight. you know where I’ll be, officer.  _

The nickname makes a tingle run down his spine, but it’s nothing like when Ben calls him a nickname, nothing like the love and comfort that burns through him when Ben does something like that. No, when Ben calls him  _ Cal  _ or  _ babe _ it just feels right, like everything he’s ever wanted. Eric doing it just leaves him feeling so glaringly wrong. He sighs, and puts his phone in his pocket. No matter how much he hates the thought of seeing Eric, he has to do this- he’d told Thompson he’d have some new info sorted by tomorrow, and he’s running low anyway. He  _ needs  _ this, and that’s the end of it. He grabs his hoodie - fuck, he has to ignore the fact that it’s  _ Ben’s favourite _ \- and goes towards the front door. 

-

Callum knows it- the look on his face, the way he’s standing against the wall, it’s all fake. It’s all him pretending to be someone he doesn’t like, pretending like he’s not actually becoming that person he’s been terrified of being. 

He’d done some research, the night before. He’s not an addict, he’s  _ not,  _ but- apparently it’s genetic. Those with parents who are addicts are more likely to slip into addiction themselves. He’s becoming the one person he never wanted to be, and it’s terrifying, because he doesn’t know how to stop it. 

He hears footsteps, coming from just the other side of him, and he schools his face. He knows the look on it appears so clearly like fear, like he’s a scared little boy awaiting trial. 

No more. He’s done being that scared little boy. 

“Evening,” A voice calls out from just beyond his range of view, just into the shadows, and he’s looking for it straight away, before he reminds himself that  _ he’s not scared _ . 

“I’m not in the mood to fuck about,” he says, and it sounds nothing like him. Good. 

“Well, that’s handy. Neither am I,” the voice says, and Eric walks just out of the shadow, so that Callum can just about see his face. But then- there’s still shadows behind him, shadows that Callum had assumed would just have been him but they’ve not moved, which means the two of them aren’t alone-

“You got it?” Callum asks. There’s a shake in his voice, and he’s desperate for Eric not to notice it. The man just nods a little, and there’s another pill packet in his hand. He throws it to Callum, and he shoves it in a pocket because he can’t bear to look at it any longer. He’s about to turn back down the alley because he just wants to  _ leave here,  _ more than anything, but Eric coughs a little-

“Hang about, officer. You owe me some money. Didn’t think you could get away with freebies all this time, did you?”

It throws him off. Of course, how could he have been so  _ stupid _ , thinking he could do this and money wouldn’t be an issue. He’s not got anything on him, except his phone, recording in his back pocket, and the emergency note that’s tucked into the case. His breath’s starting to go, and he’s not sure how he’s going to get out of this one. 

“You- you never said anything,” Callum says, and he’s hopeless to pretend now. Eric laughs, and it’s one of the most chilling things Callum’s ever heard. 

“I thought you were smarter than that, Officer Highway,” he replies. “I mean, come on, it’s not like you’re short. Police officer in London, nice little flat all to yourself. Turpin Road, was it?”

He  _ knows,  _ but then of course he does. There’s so much he hasn’t planned for, so much he doesn’t know how to deal with-

“I don’t like to be kept waiting. You’ve already taken advantage of my hospitality far too much.”

There’s nothing else he can do. He moves shaking hands to his back pocket and grabs his phone, but it slips through his fingers, sweaty hands on cold metal, and clatters to the floor, screen up, at Eric’s feet. 

“Oh, and what do we have here,” Eric says, and Callum can already hear the anger boiling in the man’s voice, because the screen it’s displaying is the recording, where he’s got their entire interaction, all the evidence Thompson will want. Eric looks back up at him, and his eyes are burning. 

“Naughty, naughty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY OKAY please don't hurt me   
> all i can say is that it has to get worse before it gets better. i hope you enjoyed this update lmao. comments/kudos mean the world to me, and feel free to come and scream at me on tumblr @artsty-highway <3  
> leo x


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels like someone’s wrapping a cord around his chest, compressing, pulling everything too tight and it’s squeezing all of the life out of him, making every breath harder to take. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, can’t think of anything else but I don't want to die here, because he’s seen what people like Eric do to people and there doesn’t seem to be any way he can fix this. He feels hopeless, in the way he always hates because he has this compulsive need to fix everything, and this is something he can’t fix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!please read tw before reading chapter!!
> 
> this is probably the most intense chapter of this fic so far, but is probably as bad as it gets, so please just be careful with this one. there's a full summary at the end if you don't want to read it- don't feel as though you need to, please. 
> 
> tw for violence, intimidation, flashbacks (some references to canon trauma - keanu, callum's dad etc), accidental overdose, reference to suicide (not actual, just the idea of it and the possibility of it happening), finding someone unconcious

“Naughty, naughty.”

It feels like someone’s wrapping a cord around his chest, compressing, pulling everything too tight and it’s squeezing all of the life out of him, making every breath harder to take. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, can’t think of anything else but  _ I don't want to die here,  _ because he’s seen what people like Eric do to people and there doesn’t seem to be any way he can fix this. He feels hopeless, in the way he always hates because he has this compulsive need to fix everything, and this is something he can’t fix. Evidently, he’s been silent for too long, because suddenly there’s movement, and two people come out from behind Eric. They’re two big men, glaring down at him and he’s helpless,  _ weak _ . It’s stupid, but the first thought that comes into his head when they get close to him is that this certainly isn’t two metres and he hates his own head, but it’s probably hysteria at this point. One man goes to either side of him and there’s hands on his arms, where Ben used to hold him except it’s so different, so painfully different. Their grip is hard, it’s firm and unforgiving where Ben’s hands would be soothing. Callum doesn’t think he’s ever missed Ben more than in this moment. 

_ He’d know what to do. _

Before anyone can say anything else there’s a noise, curling through the darkness in the alley. The chime of his phone, breaking the silence. Eric looks down at the phone in his hand, and the smirk on his face makes Callum feel sick. 

“Well, well, who’s this then?” he says, and turns the phone towards Callum. The screen’s lit up again, except this time it’s his lockscreen- a picture of him and Ben, kissing, with a notification across it. He doesn’t know if Eric recognises him, and he wants to scream because the only thought that’s going through his head right now is whether he’s going to get beat up because he’s with a Mitchell or because he’s gay. The notification is a text from Ben, too-

_ Ben: hey babe, i miss you xx _

“Someone better answer it, don’t want  _ Ben _ to get suspicious,” Eric says, and there’s a smirk on his face. More than anything, he wishes Eric had never gotten to say Ben’s name, and that first instinct isn’t even really because he doesn’t want Ben involved- not that he does,  _ fuck _ , that’s the last thing he wants. No, it’s because he can’t stop hearing Ben’s name in his voice, isn’t sure if he ever will, and it chills him to the bone. Ben feels like this one part of his life that he’ll protect until he can’t any more, and now it’s tainted. “What do you think I should write?”

“Please-please don’t.”

He’d like to think he’s above pleading with a criminal, but this is for  _ Ben.  _ Of all the things that could happen here tonight, Ben getting involved- it should’ve never been one of them. Fuck, he’s the innocent in all of this. He thinks so much of Callum and yet here Callum is, fucking everything up. This is his fault, his responsibility. 

“Oh come on now, I’m just having a bit of fun. I’d love to meet your man,  _ officer _ . He a good, law-abiding citizen like you, is he?” He says, sarcasm laced all through his voice. “Maybe I could have my own fun with him, keep my eye out, now I know what he looks like.”

“You fucking touch him-”

Pain shoots through his ribs on his right side, burning through his body and he’s back there for a minute, back in that warehouse, back to the memories that never really left him. 

“I think I’ll do what I want, Officer Highway,” Eric snarls at him, and it’s the first time the other man has broken his cool persona, the first time he’s really shown what he’ll do. He straightens up, and the mask is back in place, that  _ smirk _ that’s burnt into the back of his eyelids. HIs breath’s coming even harder now, and he doesn’t even have the energy to try and stop it. It’s a losing battle, and it’s one he’s just too tired to fight. 

“Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little stunt with the recorder,  _ mate.  _ Do you think maybe we should record a little something for it?”

And he’s gone. 

Callum thinks he might start shouting, or pleading or saying something but it’s like his brain just checks out. Those words take him back, and suddenly he doesn’t know if he’s hearing them over and over again in his head in Eric’s voice or Keanu’s, back when the same words echoed off the walls of the warehouse, and the same pain followed. It’s a blur, and he can’t tell if it’s ten seconds or ten minutes, but all he can think about is Ben, Ben,  _ Ben,  _ and this paradox he’s got himself stuck in, because right now he wants nothing more than for Ben to just hold him and tell him everything’s going to be okay, but isn’t he doing all of this to protect Ben from the truth, because he can’t face it himself? Because he can’t stand to disappoint the man he’s fallen so hard for, he just  _ can’t do it _ . 

Yet, all that’s on his mind is him. He’s wondering whether Ben’s asleep right now. He probably should be, considering it was almost 1am when Callum left the house. Or maybe he’s up with Lexi, if she’s had a nightmare in the night. Maybe he’s sat on the sofa with her, holding him close to his chest, soothing hands holding her close, holding her safe while she tries to fight off sleep because all she really wanted was a cuddle with her dad. It’s a possibility, Callum’s seen her do it before. 

He thinks maybe he’d like it if one day that could be him, holding Lexi in the middle of the night, being her comfort. Or maybe another kid, maybe another one of his and Ben’s kids, because he knows they’d end up having them. He can tell, just from the way Ben looks at Lexi- he’ll never admit it, not in front of Lexi (mainly because she’ll never let him live it down) but he adores being a father, taking care of his daughter, making her laugh when she’s sad. Fuck, he’s an expert at that. It’s a joy to watch. 

Yeah, that’s probably what they’re doing right now, cuddled together, and  _ safe, _ and that’s the important thing- as long as they’re safe. 

Callum’s mind checks back in when it’s over, and he’s alone again. There’s pain pulsing all the way through his body- if he focuses enough he can just about feel exactly where. His head’s throbbing, but he’s not entirely sure if that’s from this, or from before, and there’s a pain in his left ankle. He’s freezing cold, shivering on the cold ground and he’s not quite sure how he’s ever going to move from here. There’s something in him, something terrifying that’s okay with that, just staying and falling asleep here, waiting until, well, he’s not sure. Waiting for  _ something,  _ or maybe nothing. He’s just-  _ so cold _ , and his ribs are on fire, and it just takes him right back to the warehouse. His consciousness is just a mix of truth and lies, now, to the extent that he’s not sure what’s real. Is he actually here, sat against the wall of an alley on the other side of the Vic? Or is he just in the warehouse, tired from another one of Keanu’s attacks? The pain’s the same, it’s the same feeling of hopelessness and deep set exhaustion, the same thought of  _ is this how it ends? _

When he can catch his breath properly again, he pushes himself to a sitting position, back against the rough of the wall, and he takes stock. There’s blood on the floor next to his ankle, but he doesn’t think it’s that bad, he could walk on it if he tried. His phone’s gone, but his keys are thankfully still there, along with the silver pill packet. He wants so bad to be able to just leave it, but he can’t- his willpower’s  _ gone _ , and he doesn’t have the energy to fight it anymore. 

He can’t think about that now, he  _ can’t _ , because he’ll drive himself insane with it, thinking like that with nothing but the moon for company. He closes his eyes, and focuses on the bite of his fingernails in his palms, lets that do something to ground him. It doesn’t completely sort out what’s actually happening, but at this point he just has to get home and it  _ helps.  _

Callum takes a deep breath and rolls so that he can get one foot underneath him. It’s slow going, and there’s nothing but pain burning through him, blurring his vision and he can’t even be bothered to be ashamed that he’s crying. He’s just so far past shame, so far past anything but numbness, and it’s terrifying. 

Eventually, he’s back on his feet, leaning on the wall behind him. His head’s pounding with the sudden change of position, and there are spots in front of his vision for a minute. He stands there while they clear, just breathing, careful of his ribs. They’re probably fractured- he thinks he can recall a foot pounding into his chest, just before his mind shut off, but that’s all he can remember. 

When he can, he’s stumbling back down the alley, coming out just beside the Vic. It’s dark, blinds drawn over all the windows, and even the lights out front are off. The square’s only lit up by a couple of streetlights and the moon which is bright in the sky, staring down, watching him. It’s eerily quiet for a place that’s usually so full of life. It’s empty and lonely, and Callum hates it. 

Then again, he’s sort of thankful for it right now. The last thing he needs is someone else to worry about him, because he just needs to get home, to be alone and to finally get some sleep. 

Fuck, he  _ hates  _ it when people worry. 

So he just stumbles alone, through the middle of the square, towards the flat-

-and that’s where he sees it, the thing that jarrs him for a minute. 

The Mitchell’s house, where he knows Ben is, where Lexi’s sleeping. Where there’s a light on in the window, the one that he knows is Ben’s room. 

It’s tempting, fuck it’s so tempting. He could just stumble right over to the door, fall into Ben’s arms and let the man he loves tell him that everything’s going to be okay. 

Except he can’t. He can’t, not just because he can’t let Ben see him like this, but because he’s just had three people he doesn’t know around him and he is  _ not  _ putting Ben at risk, putting  _ Lexi _ at risk just for the sake of a little comfort. 

It takes willpower he doesn’t really have, but he turns away. 

-

Maybe Ben’s being overly sensitive. 

But Callum  _ always  _ replies to him, especially over the past few months. 

But the message has gone unanswered. Then, of course, there’s that voice at the back of his mind, that voice that’s saying that maybe his worries aren’t completely unfounded. Because Callum had been off, and he’s sure of it. He just- he needs to see him, it’s driving him insane. His mind’s been going round and round in circles all night, a vicious cycle of  _ you’re being ridiculous _ to  _ what if he’s hurt _ and back again. Now, though, the sun’s just starting to rise across the square and he doesn’t think he can wait much longer. He’s exhausted, and worried, and he just needs to put his own mind at rest, because the minute he forces himself to relax that thought is back, that thought of  _ what if he’s in trouble, and you didn’t do anything?  _ He couldn’t live with himself. He just needs this. 

The house is almost silent when he creeps downstairs. It’s odd, when the whole building has been awash with life for the past few months. Of course, it’s been missing that one ray of sunshine that’s been constantly on his mind, but having Lex helped. Besides, it made  _ sense _ . It would’ve been too much of a risk to have Callum here as well, what with his job. He hates it, but it’s the truth. 

When Ben thinks about it, though, the amount that Callum has been on his mind- there’s a part of him that it  _ terrifies,  _ the part of him that’s still convinced that he doesn’t deserve such a good person, someone who’s so damn perfect. They’re polar opposites, Ben thinks, him and Callum. They’d come from such similar places, such similar childhoods, and Ben’s the perfect example of what can happen to a person who’s lived through all that. Callum, though- somehow he’s gone through it all and more, and he’s still the best person that Ben’s ever known. He doesn’t deserve that, he knows, but somehow he’s got it, and he’ll hold onto it for as long as he possibly can, for as long as Callum’s willing to stay. There’s a part of Ben, though, that’s telling him that maybe this is possible, maybe he really can just be happy like this. He thinks that’s probably Callum’s influence over him as well, but he’s not exactly complaining. It’s that part of him that had ordered that cheesy red ring box online, the part of him that’s had that box, a little silver key in it, ready and waiting for the day that he can ask Callum. And hey, maybe he’s got it ready for a different question too. Someday. 

He only realises he’s probably grinning like an idiot at the thought when he sees little legs padding down the stairs towards him through the doorway. Lexi runs straight over to him as soon as she sees him, and jumps onto his lap. He wraps his arms around her and holds her close, feeling the way she laughs against his chest and,  _ fuck,  _ it’s a sound he can’t wait to hear again. 

“Morning, princess,” he says, and she shifts back so he can see her face. 

_ Good morning, dad, _ she signs, and the way her face scrunches up when she’s concentrating on the words makes Ben laugh.  _ Why you awake? _

“I’m just going to check on Callum, alright? I think he’s getting lonely, I just want to say hello to him,” he replies, and she nods. 

_ I miss him, _ she signs with a frown on her face.

“Yeah, me too baby,” he replies. “Me too.”

-

The square’s just starting to wake up by the time he gets out of the house. It was about 5 by the time he’d left, and now there’s maybe one or two people out. It used to be unusual, but not so much anymore when people are just trying to get out of the house when they can. There’s a guy on the other side of the road walking a rather fat looking dog, and someone just leaving the square, headphones on their head. The sun’s starting to catch on the top of the houses, and the morning air is chilly and dewy, but fuck is it refreshing. Ben used to detest getting up early like this, but it’s become something of a habit. Of course, this morning was a bit out of the ordinary since he hadn’t really slept the night before, fighting this feeling that something was going to happen, but it’s become an almost-routine for him to go for a little walk in the mornings, while everything’s quiet. He doesn’t really go anywhere but around the square but it’s something, when he can’t hear anyone else and he’s climbing the walls just waiting for the days he gets to see his boyfriend. 

He’s still on autopilot, walking around to Callum’s flat above the funeral parlour. It’s such a familiar journey, even after all this time. Memories of late nights wanting to be alone and days spent wrapped up in each other’s arms, walking back to the flat with pastries in his arms from the cafe swirl around his head, memories of times before all of this. Suddenly he’s back to thinking about that little ring box sitting in his shirt drawer where his own clothes mix with one or two of Callum’s in the most perfect way, days like the ones they’ve had at the flat but  _ every morning _ instead, and it’s all Ben wants. 

The curtains aren’t pulled, which is somewhat promising. He knows Callum should be up by now, because he’s got an early shift today, and he always has to be up more than an hour before he has to leave the house. It’s one of those strangely endearing things about Callum, how long it takes him to wake up in the morning. He’s soft and slow to Ben’s messy and fast in the mornings, because Ben would do  _ anything _ for a couple more minutes in bed. Even that makes him smile and fuck, he’s so gone. 

He walks over to the door to ring the buzzer, and catches sight of a little stain that lies on the wood, just next to the handle. It’s dark and messy, but too dark for Ben to be able to work out what it is, but he’s sure he’s not seen it there before. He lowers a hand to run his thumb over it but the door just pushes open easily, like it’s been hurriedly kicked closed. It makes Ben frown, because Callum’s never that careless, even when it’s Ben that’s pushing him through the door. 

“Callum?” he calls, in the hopes that maybe the other man will hear him and come down, because he’s probably just run back upstairs to get something and left the door on the latch. Ben waits a minute or so but there’s nothing, no sign of life and that voice is back, the one that’s telling him that  _ something’s wrong.  _ It’s impossible to ignore now, even though the likelihood is that Callum’s just slept in- but that wouldn’t explain the door. Ben steps through the doorway, pushing the door closed behind him, and that’s when he spots the stains, the same as the one below the handle of the door, trailing up the stairs. He leans down and wipes over it again and lifts up his thumb and it comes away red, dark red like almost dried-

- _ blood.  _

He feels sick, all of a sudden, because there could be an innocent explanation to maybe one or two but the stains trail all the way across the floor, leading up the stairs towards the rest of the flat. His heart’s pounding when he races up the stairs and there’s just a constant run of  _ Callum, Callum Callum _ through his head. He comes around the corner into the main flat and he’s praying to something that he doesn’t believe in because he needs Callum to be okay, more than he needs air to breathe.  _ He can’t lose him,  _ and maybe it’s too early for prayers because he walks into the main flat and there’s a hand, pale, stretching out just beyond the edge of the counter. His legs go weak, as he takes a few more steps because  _ he knows those hands _ , he’s had them wrapped around him, holding him close so many times, has longed for their warmth for months, but there’s no warmth in the hand he can see now. 

That sick feeling comes back full force when he sees him, and all of the air in the room is just-  _ gone.  _

Because Callum,  _ his Callum _ , he’s just lying there. 

He looks small, curled into himself. And pale, paler than Ben knows he should be. 

Right then, right in that moment, Ben’s world is shattering around him, all over again. 

Everything feels like a blur and before he can process it Ben's on the floor, knelt next to Callum’s head, and he’s not even thinking about how he shouldn’t really be touching him right now because he just  _ has to _ . His eyes are closed and his face is completely blank, and there’s no hint of that blush Ben loves so much on his cheeks. He thinks he might be saying something, but he’s helpless to try and figure it out now. Shaking hands reach towards Callum’s neck because he has to know, he has to do  _ something,  _ and fuck this can’t be how it ends for them. 

It’s the longest few seconds of his life, but he finds a weak pulsing against his fingers, and it’s the best thing Ben’s ever felt because there’s  _ hope _ , because Callum’s still there, still with him. 

He starts unconsciously talking, a mantra of  _ you’re going to be okay _ , over and over and he’ll say it until he’s hoarse if there’s even a tiny chance that Callum can hear him. Ben holds the other man as close to him as he can, head on his knees, and a hand drifts into his hair. 

Fuck, he’s wished to be doing this again, but  _ never like this _ . 

It hits him in a moment of clarity that they need help, he has to get Callum to a hospital, and he fumbles for his phone in his back pocket. He shouts out when it hits him that he can’t call an ambulance himself because he won’t be able to hear them. He scrolls down to Jay’s contact instead, because Jay will understand, will  _ help.  _ He watches as the call connects after too long, and he’s shouting down the phone before Jay’s even had the chance to speak, because there’s no one here to hear him anyway. 

“Jay, Jay, you gotta help me. A-ambulance, you need to call an ambulance. Something’s- fuck, something’s happened. Callum’s flat, he’s- something’s happened, he needs help. He’s not moving, he’s unconscious.”

He’s crying, sobbing down the phone but he doesn’t have it in him to be ashamed, because maybe it’s selfish, but he can’t do this again, can’t survive losing another love, losing the love of his life. Because that’s what Callum is, and Ben’s too weak to deny it any more. He thinks back to the ring box that’s in his dresser drawer, how he’s had dreams of using that ring box properly, dragging Lola with him to buy a simple silver ring to go in it, and then the same trip but this time for two rings, one for him and one for his  _ husband-to-be.  _ He can’t lose him, can’t have Callum be another ring on his finger, a ring he has to put there himself instead of having Callum put it on him. 

_ He can’t do this again.  _

The call disconnects, and a minute later there’s a single text from Jay-

_ Jay: omw _

-and he has to believe that that’ll be enough. 

Time becomes irrelevant. He just sits there, Callum’s head in his lap, and one finger pressed against his neck, dread pulsing through him after every beat. He flinches at everything he thinks he can hear, looks towards the door, just waiting for help to run through it. His world’s reduced to that, Callum’s pulse and that wait for someone else at the door. 

Eventually, there’s another shadow on the wall, and Jay appears at the top of the stairs, phone to his ear. He’s still in a t-shirt and pyjama trousers, flip flops shoved onto his feet. His hair’s a mess, like he’s just woken up. He walks around Callum, like he’s trying to keep as much distance as he can which is probably sensible. Ben sees his lips moving, talking to someone on the other end of the phone but he can’t concentrate enough to figure out what he’s saying until Jay actually turns to him. 

“What happened?” he says carefully, slowly, and Ben can’t be mad right now. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know! I came round to check on him- I-I was worried and he was just- he’s not moving, he’s not moving!” 

Jay says something else into the phone, then mimes breathing to Ben. 

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s like, really weak? I-I can feel his pulse a bit,” he replies. Jay nods at him, then speaks back into the phone. He starts to look around a little, and suddenly Ben catches him freeze, his eyes catching on something. 

“What, what?” Ben cries, and Jay leans forward to pick something off the floor. It’s a blister packet, the silver glinting on the light that’s seeping through the curtains, and it’s empty, every single one of the tablets popped out. He’s about to shout, ask what the fuck Jay is doing picking up Callum’s rubbish when it hits him, the reality of what’s actually happened. 

He doesn’t know what they are, but there’s twelve empty spaces in the packet, and it had been laying just out of Callum’s hand. It’s not hard to connect the dots, but Ben doesn’t want to believe it, doesn’t want this to be the answer to why Callum’s lying lifeless on his lap. 

Jay starts speaking back into the phone, and Ben can’t do anything but hold Callum closer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> summary - eric finds out that callum was trying to double cross him and callum gets beaten up, and then takes himself home. ben wakes up and talks to lexi about missing callum and is worried about him not replying to a text, so he goes over to callum's flat and finds him unconcious after a suspected overdose. ben calls jay, who eventually calls an ambulance and the chapter ends with the ambulance being called
> 
> afhdsdhsg im SORRY all i can say is just,,, hold on, this will have a happy ending eventually :((((( also i apologise for kinda abandoning this for a while, i had comfortember and got distracted with that and then december has been a little busy and difficult so im having some trouble creativity-wise, but i do hope that this makes up for it because it's a little bit longer than i thought it was gonna be  
> comments and kudos mean the world to me <333  
> leo x


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being in the hospital like this- it’s weird. Sure, it’s not exactly like the Mitchell family aren’t somewhat regulars to Walford General, but it’s the first time in years that Ben’s been here like this. Even when Phil had been in hospital it’d been different, because he’d been wracked with hatred, and so much anger that he didn’t know what to do with. He hadn’t even been to see Callum when he’d been lying in a hospital bed the last time, couldn’t bear the sight of it. He doesn’t regret it, exactly, because the sight of Callum lying in a hospital bed is one that Ben doesn’t think he’ll ever get out of his head. He looks small, drowned out by the stark whiteness of the sheets. His hair’s a mess, splayed in funny directions across the pillow instead of in a careful quiff on the top of his head like he likes it. There’s a hollowness to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before, and bags under his eyes bigger than Ben’s ever seen them. A breathing machine is attached to his face, just like it has been for the last day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions and references to overdose (drug use and ref to sleeping pills specifically) and mentions of hospitals and medical procedures
> 
> also please excuse the fact that im not entirely sure how factually correct this one will be. i know something about medical procedures and such (*cough* only from holby city *cough*) but not a huge amount, and i didn't really want to research into it. 
> 
> also also i probably took some liberties with covid here, i tried to kinda make it make sense but im not 100% sure and again didn't really want to research it for personal reasons but yeah, i hope it still makes sense lmao

Being in the hospital like this- it’s weird. Sure, it’s not exactly like the Mitchell family aren’t somewhat regulars to Walford General, but it’s the first time in years that Ben’s been here like this. Even when Phil had been in hospital it’d been different, because he’d been wracked with hatred, and so much anger that he didn’t know what to do with. He hadn’t even been to see Callum when he’d been lying in a hospital bed the last time, couldn’t bear the sight of it. He doesn’t regret it, exactly, because the sight of Callum lying in a hospital bed is one that Ben doesn’t think he’ll ever get out of his head. He looks small, drowned out by the stark whiteness of the sheets. His hair’s a mess, splayed in funny directions across the pillow instead of in a careful quiff on the top of his head like he likes it. There’s a hollowness to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before, and bags under his eyes bigger than Ben’s ever seen them. A breathing machine is attached to his face, just like it has been for the last day. 

Ben had been a mess, when they’d had to take Callum away from him. He’d been shouting, he thinks, from the way his throat is hoarse and scratchy now, but he just couldn’t bear to have Callum taken away just in case he never got to see him again. Someone had pulled him off, and he’d turned around to see Lola, eyes red, looking at him with such fear and pity. She’d held him for what felt like hours, while Jay had to sit in the chairs opposite the two of them. 

Eventually a doctor had come back down the corridor with a face Ben couldn’t understand (couldn’t, or been too desperate to try to). He’d leapt out of his seat as soon as he’d seen him, because he just had to  _ know.  _ The doctor wore a mask over his mouth, and Ben watched his chin move up and down, knowing he was speaking but not a clue what he was saying-

“I can’t fucking hear you!” he’d shouted, and everyone had turned to look at him. Jay had said something to the doctor, who’d nodded and handed him a blue file, Callum’s name written on the front, while he turned back to Lola, so she could explain anything he needed. They’d run tests, done everything they could to figure out what had happened-

-broken ribs, fractured ankle, and, fuck, the worst thing-

the words  _ suspected overdose,  _ scrawled on the page in black ink. They’d had to pump Callum’s stomach. They were still running tests to figure out what it had been, but they trusted Jay’s suspicions. The packet he’d found on the floor had been one for sleeping pills. 

Ben couldn’t read any more. He’d handed the file back to the doctor, and Lola had put a hand out in front of him to catch his attention again. 

“He’s going to recover,” she’d said, and Ben just  _ broke.  _

She’d been the one to catch him, falling into the seat beside him. He’d cried into her shoulder for fuck knows how long, guilt at the thought of  _ why didn’t I notice _ screaming through his mind. 

He couldn’t have been sure how long it had been, but eventually Lola had nudged him gently off her shoulder, nodding towards the doctor who was sat just across from them. He’d said something that Ben couldn’t understand, so he’d turned to Lola. 

“You can go and see him,” she’d said, and Ben had been on his feet straight away, led to a room where he’s been sitting, staring at the man in the middle of the bed for hours. The sun’s risen properly and almost set in the time he’s been sat there, doctors coming and going. He’s got a mask on his face, and he’d been taken out maybe an hour or two ago to get a virus test, but the rest of the time he just can’t take his eyes off Callum. There’s maybe some part of him that’s expecting Callum to just open his eyes straight away, sit up and talk to him, tell him that he’s really fine but he knows it’s impossible. The doctors had put him in an induced coma for a while, for reasons Ben didn’t have the energy to try and understand. They’d been relaying all of the information to Lola anyway, who’d been updating Jay via text- they’d sent him home a little while ago, something about too many people in the hospital waiting room. Ben thinks he misses him, and maybe that’s just because Jay’s always been the strong one between the two of them. 

There’s been nurses coming in and out of the room all day, but other than that he’s been alone, and he’s hardly moved. He can’t seem to bear not having his eyes on Callum for a second longer than necessary, and he’s not sure whether that’s because of the fact that they’ve not been in the same room alone for months, or because Callum’s currently in a coma, lying lifeless in front of him. He’s praying that it’s not just him clutching at straws, but he thinks Callum looks better, or better, at least, since they found him. There’s more colour in his cheeks now, and the trail of vomit’s been scrubbed off the side of his face. He’s still not moving, though, and that’s the thing that Ben can’t stand. 

His eyes start burning, but he can’t bear to look away, terrified that Callum will fade away the minute he does. It’s irrational, he knows that - the doctors say he’s doing well, and the coma is more of a precaution, and a way to help him deal with initial withdrawal ( _ fuck _ , he remembers hearing those words spoken about his dad, he never thought he’d have to hear them again, and when they’re being spoken about the man he loves, nausea races through him) - but he reckons there’s something about love, something about this love that he has with Callum that makes him an irrational man, and he’s not sure how he feels about it. Ben’s always prided himself on being unbreakable, but then again, all Callum’s ever done since the start is break all his rules- never follow up with a hookup, never let yourself get attached,  _ never let yourself fall like that again _ , but he’s done it all. It’s terrifying, especially when he’s sat here like this, and the thought of losing Callum is just unthinkable, impossible. 

He doesn’t realise he’s checked out until there’s a hand on his shoulder. He flinches away from it initially, before he turns around and sees Lola standing behind him, pity on her face. She kneels down next to his chair, and he’d scold her for treating him like a child if he had the energy for it. He sees Callum’s doctor standing just outside of the door, watching on, and suddenly there’s panic running through his veins. 

“What- what’s going on?” he says, shifting so that his hand grips Lola’s probably stronger than is strictly necessary. She just curls her fingers around his hand, gentle and too careful. 

“We need to go home,” she says, pulling her hands away momentarily to sign along with the words she knows, just some of the words that Lola’s been teaching the both of them. What she’s saying hits him, and he wants to laugh, almost, because she’s joking, surely?

“No- no, Lo, I can’t- I can’t just leave him here alone, I can’t,” he says, and he’s pleading with her, begging but he can’t be bothered to be ashamed, not when Callum’s involved. 

“You’ve been here too long, it’s not safe,” Lola pleads.  _ Need sleep, come back in the morning. _

“You don’t- don’t get it, what if he needs me? Wh-what if he wakes up and I’m not here?”

_ He won’t,  _ she signs. “The doctors don’t want to bring him round till Thursday.”

“What?” he asks, because he’s so  _ tired _ , and he can’t quite make the words make sense. 

_ The doctors,  _ she signs.  _ Wake him up Thursday.  _

_ Thursday _ . It takes Ben a minute to work out that it’s Tuesday today. 

“No- no, no, t-that’s too long, I ca-can’t wait that long,” Ben replies. 

_ For him _ , Lola signs, and suddenly Ben’s just crying again, because she’s right, they need to do whatever’s best for him but Ben needs the reassurance of seeing his eyes more than anything. He falls forward onto Lola, and she just silently holds him. 

-

The warm water’s been raining down on his back for longer than he cares to think about now, yet he still feels cold. He keeps checking in and out of reality, keeps sinking back into his own mind running rampant with worries about the man he’s left behind in the hospital. It’s illogical, realistically he knows that Callum’s in the best place he could possibly be right now, but Ben wants to be able to hold him, be able to tell the other man that he loves him, more than anything. He needs that comfort more than he needs to breathe, because seeing the doctors say that he’s going to be okay, and seeing it for his own eyes are two completely different things. He’s got this terrifying thought stuck racing around his head, this thought that he’s going to walk into the hospital tomorrow and see an empty bed instead of the man he loves, and it’s driving him insane. It makes anger, and guilt and all sorts of other things burn through his mind and he’s got no outlet for them so he just- pushes them down, hides them behind brick walls because right now it’s easier to feel numb than to feel what his mind wants him to. 

So he’s just stood under the shower spray at Lola’s demand, letting the water wash over him. His hair’s dripping water into his eyes, and it rolls down his face, mixing with the tears that feel almost constant since the morning. His fingers have long since shrivelled, and he’s just staring blankly as drops of water trickle down the tiling on the other side of the room. They leave tracks in their wake, barely-there imprints like a road map, merging together at the bottom to trickle down the drain. Maybe he should be worried about wasting water, but he doesn’t have it in him.

Oh, but Callum would. He’d never let Ben stay in the shower too long in the morning, never let him use the water for longer than necessary. Ben thinks he’s just about the only person who would suggest them having a shower together to save water and actually mean it. They’d done it a few times, and Callum had told him off for trying to start something, laughing and telling him that they should get out of the shower if Ben wants to do that, because  _ looking after the world is important, Ben, and hot water is expensive _ . It’s one of those things he’d never really considered before Callum, but now it’s on his mind every time he showers, the cute way he’d raise his eyebrows if Ben tried to argue that there was plenty of water. He’d shake his head, a beautiful smile on his face and pull on his hand, not hard enough to pull him over but just to make his feelings known. Ben would roll his own eyes and turn off the shower behind him, mutter something about Callum being  _ such a goody-two-shoes _ , something that would make Callum pinch him in retaliation. He’d turn back around and see Callum staring at him, a blush climbing up his cheeks in the steamy room and a look that Ben doesn’t think he’ll ever deserve in his eyes. Ben would ask him what he was staring at and Callum would just shake his head, shift his gaze to his feet, then grab a soft white towel to wrap Ben up in. He’d laugh at the way Ben’s hair looks when it’s towel-dried, stuck up at every angle and Ben would kiss him, not deep or heated but just soft, the gentle brushing of lips against lips, his hands coming to run through where Callum’s hair is still warm and dripping. Ben would inhale and smell his own body wash on Callum’s skin, Lola’s passion fruit shampoo in his hair because that’s all they had left and Ben didn’t have the energy to go shopping yet. He’d pull away at the feeling of Callum’s hands stroking across his cheek, warm skin against warm skin, catching in the stubble Ben’s not shaved yet, because he’s been with Callum all weekend, and he can’t bear to be apart from him that long. Callum would ask him if he wants to shave together, because Callum’s just starting to grow out stubble too, and Ben would nod his head, and grab the stuff out of the cupboard behind the mirror. They’d stand, shoulder to shoulder in front of the mirror, worlds colliding every time their skin does, basking in the comfortable silence between them. It would be a strange sort of simple domesticity, one that Ben’s never considered before and one that makes him wonder how something as simple as this makes him want to fall in love with Callum over and over, every single day. Callum would turn to him when they’re both done, and run his hands over the sensitive skin of Ben’s cheeks with a soft smile-

Ben’s brought crashing back to reality when the feeling of his own hand against his cheek just isn’t the same. He falls, bare legs hitting the old ceramic because they just can’t hold him up any longer, and just breaks, full force, no control.

He doesn’t know how to do this again- doesn’t know if he can. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahskjakdh im soRRY  
> anyways i got some suuper lovely comments on my last chapter of this which was super sweet, because i kinda took a break from it for a while and was super anxious about coming back to it so if you left a comment on my last chapter know that you really really made a huge difference to me getting the next few chapters out so thank you so so much- comments and kudos mean the world to me, hope you enjoyed and lots and lots of love to you  
> leo x


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben doesn’t know what time it is, just that he can’t sleep. He’s been in this strange place between asleep and awake for what feels like forever, even though it’s probably only a few days- he can’t remember sleeping at all since they found him. It’s that image, more than anything, the sight of Callum on the kitchen floor in his flat- it’s something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. Every time he closes his eyes it’s like it’s burnt into the back of his eyelids, and he’s been praying to be able to replace it with the image of Callum’s beautiful eyes ever since. There’s actually hope today, though- it’s Thursday which means that, all being well, the doctors are planning to bring him round today. He’s been waiting for this for days, and today couldn’t come soon enough for so long but now that it’s today, now that the sun’s just catching on the buildings across the square and he actually might see his boyfriend again he’s terrified. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw - references to suicide (very light insinuation that callum's had a history of mh issues) and hospitals

Ben doesn’t know what time it is, just that he can’t sleep. He’s been in this strange place between asleep and awake for what feels like forever, even though it’s probably only a few days- he can’t remember sleeping at all since they found him. It’s  _ that image _ , more than anything, the sight of Callum on the kitchen floor in his flat- it’s something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. Every time he closes his eyes it’s like it’s burnt into the back of his eyelids, and he’s been praying to be able to replace it with the image of Callum’s beautiful eyes ever since. There’s actually hope today, though- it’s Thursday which means that, all being well, the doctors are planning to bring him round today. He’s been waiting for this for days, and today couldn’t come soon enough for so long but now that it’s today, now that the sun’s just catching on the buildings across the square and he actually might see his boyfriend again he’s terrified. 

There’s so many questions, so many things that have been tormenting him, coursing around his head, and all he’s wanted is answers so that he can stop torturing himself but suddenly he’s so scared of what he’ll hear. All he wants is to hear his boyfriend’s voice again but he doesn’t want to hear the answers to the questions that come with him being awake again, doesn’t want to hear how it’s his fault that all of this happened, his fault for leaving Callum to get this bad, his fault for introducing him to a world that he’s done nothing but try and get Ben out of. They still don’t know if what happened was intentional or not, but the issue is that he’d been taking them, either way, and  _ fuck,  _ Ben can’t stop thinking he should have done more, should have noticed or  _ said something _ . He’d worried when Stuart had texted him with his concerns, and he knows that he didn’t do enough. He should’ve listened, should have never let Callum hide behind lies when he knew that there was something going on. The fact that  _ Stuart  _ had gone as far as to text him should have been enough- it’s not like they hate each other these days, but they’re still not the best of friends, and they’re certainly not the kinds to text each other for a quick catch-up. But he’d been stupid, and blinded by his desperate want for it to all be a misunderstanding, for Callum to be  _ fine _ , because there was nothing really he could do if Callum wouldn’t talk to him. He’s been stupid,  _ so stupid _ , and he just wants to blindly avoid it for as long as possible. 

He’s sat in the back doorway of the Mitchell house, feet freezing on the concrete because the closed walls of the rest of the house had been suffocating him all night. The morning air is cold and dewey, freezing his chest as he breathes it in, curling out of his mouth almost like smoke when he breathes out. It’s in moments like these when he wonders why he’s not taken up smoking yet- it’s not like there’s a shortage of people around the square who do it, although he’s heard enough about how it rots your lungs. Then again, everyone’s got their vices, and he’s certainly no exception. His head’s still pounding a little from Tuesday night, when he’d managed to pull himself out of the shower and proceed to get blind drunk, to the point he can’t actually quite remember what happened. Ben hates himself for it, for making such a mess of himself while Callum is the one everyone should be worrying about, but it’s not like Mitchell men are famous for dealing with their emotions well. He’d just woken up the next afternoon, head screaming at him and ears ringing, the bitter taste of vodka on his tongue. It had properly clicked in his head once he’d seen Jay and Lola whispering in the kitchen the next morning, stopping when he walked in as if he could still hear them. 

He hasn’t seen Lexi since Tuesday morning, and he thinks maybe that’s for the best. He’s always been terrified of turning into his father, of damaging his daughter the same way Phil had done to him, and it’s when he’s drunk that it’s the worst. He knows he’s abrasive, and angry, and it’s behaviour that he never wants his daughter to have to put up with. He’s made mistakes in the past, and he’s not going to move backwards, not now. 

So he just sits, lets the freezing air burn through him, ground him, make him feel somewhat like this is actually happening, because right now he needs a reminder. The sun’s shining across the square, lighting it up in this beautiful golden glow, and Ben knows for a fact that Callum looks beautiful in that light, the way it catches on his skin in the early morning. He remembers waking up to him watching the sun rise out of the window, a contented little smile on his face, and  _ fuck _ , he remembers that being the moment he’d realised,  _ this is the man i want to love me forever _ . 

The sunlight feels somewhat lonely now, when he’s watching it on his own. 

The sun’s just about to catch on the top of the Vic when there’s a gentle tap on his shoulder. It’s careful, but it makes him jump nonetheless, and he’s not sure whether it’s because his nerves are shot or because he can’t hear- probably both, a deadly combination. 

He turns around, and there’s some irritation that burns in his chest because he’s been stuck in this fantasy world of that morning with Callum for the past few minutes and it’s bliss. The irritation quickly fades away, though, when he sees Lexi’s little worried face staring back at him, hands wringing in front of her in a nervous habit that he’s sure she’s picked up from too much time around Callum (not that it’s a bad thing,  _ fuck _ he loves seeing the two of them together). 

“Morning, darlin’” he says softly, and he tries his best to give her a genuine smile. He’s not sure if it works, because her face hasn’t changed. Instead, she pulls her hands apart and brings them in front of her, together to sign something. 

_ Don’t be sad,  _ she signs, and it’s reminiscent of a time that feels like so long ago, and he feels like such a different person now. It makes him smile, despite himself. 

“I’ll try," he replies, because that’s the best he can offer her right now. She frowns a little more, and then sits down in front of him, little legs crossed on the cold kitchen floor. 

_ What happened to Callum? _ she signs, and the care with which she signs out his name makes his heart jump. Maybe to anyone else it would be something and nothing but to him, right now, it feels like the world- the fact that his daughter cares  _ so much  _ about Callum. 

Ben reckons she’s heard Lola and Jay talking about it, or seen him cry, or  _ something _ , and he can’t bear to leave her hanging, when she’s clearly worried about him herself. 

“He, uh,” Ben starts, and he frantically tries to swallow around the lump in his throat, because he refuses to cry in front of his daughter. “He just had a bit of an accident, darlin’, they’re taking care of him at the hospital. Daddy’s gonna go and see him today though, and I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

Lexi pauses for a minute, and then just nods. She’s so mature for her age, and he’s got no clue how with him as her father. She just leans forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders, pushing her head into his neck. It brings him closer than he’s been to crying all morning, the gentleness that she possesses despite everything she’s been brought up around. It’s a wonder, really. It’s definitely not his influence, but there’s something in him that thinks maybe it’s Callum, the man who makes everything around him just ten times better. 

She pulls away after a minute, and brings her hands up again. She’s talking along with her words, but carefully and slowly, to make sure that he gets all of it. 

_ Tell Callum I love him and that he should get better soon, _ she signs, and it breaks his heart and pulls it back together, all at the same time. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says, and she pulls him into a soft hug again. 

-

Ben doesn’t know why it’s the first place he goes, but it’s all he can think about, for some reason. He feels this duty to tell her, even though he wouldn’t be surprised if there’s already been rumours going around the square about it- someone doesn’t get carried off in an ambulance around here without it sparking a million rumours. The people who needed to know got told, of course. He’s been informed that someone had called the Carters which he’s glad about- he knows how much they meant to Callum, so it only feels right that they know. There’s little detail- that’s Callum’s story to tell when -  _ if  _ \- he wakes up. They’ve just been told that Callum’s been in some trouble, that he’s been in hospital. He’s sure there are already rumours about him, and about what  _ trouble  _ really means when you’re sleeping with a Mitchell, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when Callum’s back there,  _ fighting- _

Apparently Whitney hadn’t been on Jay’s list, but he’s sort of glad about it. Not that he’s directly looking forward to the conversation of course, but just because he feels like he should, feels like maybe he owes her that much. Contrary to popular belief, and what he’d let Callum believe, he did feel somewhat guilty about sleeping with Callum while him and Whitney were still together. She was nice, feisty, and Ben’’s been around the square long enough to know what she’s been through. He respects her, so much, and maybe that’s what leads him outside her door. 

When the front door swings open, Sonia is standing behind it. There’s distaste on her face as soon as she sees that it’s him, but he doesn’t have the energy to fight back with a smirk of his own. He knows she probably hates him, but then he hates himself right now, so what difference does it make? 

“Is uh, is Whitney in? I need to speak to her,” he says, voice softer than he wants it to be. She shoots a questioning look at him, and starts talking too fast for him to even try to understand. 

“Wait wait, just- slow down, I can’t understand you,” he says, irritation in his voice and shame on his face. “Look, I don’t want a lecture, I know she’s got a lot going on but I just need to speak to her. It’s about Callum.” 

As soon as the other man’s name comes up, her face softens, and there’s worry there. Because that’s the kind of person that Callum is- someone that everyone’s got a soft spot for, kind and properly caring like no one else Ben knows around here. Friends with everyone, and Ben’s ruined him-

Sonia nods after a minute, and disappears back into the house, leaving the door slightly ajar. A minute or so later Whitney comes down, looking so put together and he envies it. 

“Hey,” Ben says, because sure, he’s the one that’s come here but now he’s lost for words. How do you even start to do this, have this conversation with someone? He’s lost, somehow more than he’s been the past few days if that’s even possible. 

“You alright?” she says slowly, concern on her face. “Sonia said… something about Callum.” 

He nods, and swallows around the lump in his throat. “Something… something’s happened.” 

The worry only grows on her face, and Ben curses his mouth for not working. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, and that’s no better. “He’s in hospital.” 

Her face falls, eyes wide, and he thinks she says something like  _ oh my God _ before a hand comes over her mouth. 

“He’s uh, there was an accident. Something bad happened- he did something.” 

The way her face changes says so much in that moment- there’s recognition there, like she’s clocked what he’s talking about and maybe she knows a lot more about Callum than she’s ever let on. Maybe a lot more happened when they were together than Ben knows about. It makes him want to scream, cry, at the idea that she knows this about Callum, because if she’s picked this up so quickly then there must be something else steering her towards that conclusion. He distantly feels the tears on his cheeks, but he doesn’t care for once- it doesn’t seem important right now. 

Whitney moves her hand away from her mouth and talks carefully. “Is he…” 

She doesn’t have to finish the sentence. The idea of her doing it anyway makes him feel sick. 

“No, he’s- he’s doing better, apparently. Induced coma or some shit,” Ben replies and he just notices that he’s shaking- whether from this conversation or the cold wind he’s not sure. Whitney seems to notice too because the door swings open wider, and she steps aside. It’s an obvious invitation but it still feels like an intrusion. 

With Callum- it’s the only place he’s ever really felt like he belongs. 

He steps inside anyway, hands in his pockets, and knocks the door closed behind him. By the time he turns around again, Whitney’s looking at him expectantly, as if there’s a question being asked. 

“Sorry, say again,” Ben says, and when he points to his ears Whitney nods a little, looking apologetic. 

“Tea?” she says, and he nods. It’s such a British thing, something that he’s certain Callum would think - everything can be fixed by a good cup of tea. 

The thought makes him miss Callum even more, somehow, as if his chest didn’t already burn with it. 

Whit points him to the dining table and Ben just kind of hovers there for a minute, unsure. He’s never been all that great at  _ people _ . He hadn’t needed to for so long, since no one really wanted him around anyway. It had been Callum that had brought him out of it, tugged him kicking and screaming back into actively  _ living  _ again, and now that he’s without him he’s at a loose end. Ben hadn’t noticed until now just how much he relies on the other man and now he’s not here-

_ You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.  _

Ben flinches when Whitney puts a mug down in front of him on the table (when had he even sat down?) and turns to look up at her. She looks somewhat concerned - but he’s not sure whether that’s for his benefit or Callum’s - and there are tears in her eyes, and even though he barely knows her nowadays he wants so desperately to be able to hold her hand, to reassure her somehow, because they’re both sat here having been in the same position. Both sat here, having fallen in love with this stupid, selfless, all too loving man and they’re both sat here in the chaos of it all, of loving and having loved a man like Callum. Neither of them would change it for the world, though, that’s for certain. 

Ben wants so desperately to tell her that it’s all going to be okay, but how can he say that when he’s not even sure himself?   
  
He presses his hands to the mug and feels the warmth as it seeps into his fingers, too hot but he doesn’t have the energy to care. He’d had all the intention of coming round here and explaining things, letting Whitney know that he was in hospital but that he was improving, all of the things that he thinks she’d want to hear but he finds himself stuck now. Now that she’s sat there, tears in her eyes and watching him it feels like his throat’s closed up, like he’s hopeless to it all. 

“I’m sorry,” is what he says first, only because it feels appropriate. There’s a whole list of things he should be apologising for, really, so much so that he doesn’t know where to start. 

It doesn’t escape his memory, that time more than a year ago now, that Whitney had found him and told him to  _ take care of him, yeah? _ The moment haunts him now, and all the promises he’d made - to her, to all the people that love Callum and only wanted to see him protected from whatever Ben would inevitably do to him, to himself - that he would be different, that things would be different this time. That him and Callum would be different, because he was so determined for it. 

Those memories burn guilt through him now, reminding him of every time that someone had said Callum was too good for him, that he’d only hurt him, and how right they all were.

Whitney taps her hand to the table just in front of him and he looks back up to her, and the way the tears have broken over onto her cheeks. 

“It ain’t your fault,” she says, talking slowly and Ben would be irritated if he had the energy for anything more than  _ empty _ . “It ain’t anyone’s fault.” 

“I promised you,” Ben says, because he needs to get it out before it drives him insane. “Last- last year. I promised that I’d look after him. Fucking good job I did of that.” 

“Ben,” she says, so much concern on her face and it seems impossible that it could be for him. She waits until his eyes are trained on her again. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault.” 

“But what if-” the mere thought chokes him, makes him want to gag but he has to get it out. “What if he did do this- what if he did try to-”

Whitney says something, careful words but he doesn’t catch them, too caught up in the rushing in his head. He watches her face until she says it again, slow words that he can just make out. 

_ Then we get him through it.  _

He’s not as afraid of crying in front of Whitney as perhaps he should be, but it’s another thing he doesn’t have the energy for. She looks as though she wants to reach out and hold his hand but she stops herself, a hand laid up on the table instead. The meaning is clear there. He nods, offering her a smile. It’s small and barely there but it’s something, to let her know that he understands. 

Because they’ve both been in love with this stupid, selfless, all too loving man, and they’ll both do anything to protect him. 

-

Coming into the hospital, knowing what he’s going to see when he gets into the room- it’s so much different to when he’d come in before. He knows , realistically, what he’s going to find; Callum, laid in the middle of the bed, eyes closed and his chest rising and falling oh so steadily (Ben remembers it being completely mesmerising, but then again he’s not sure if that’s just because then he was still convincing himself that Callum was really going to get through this). The corridor outside still feels somewhat unreal, quiet at this time of the morning, with just two doctors standing at the far wall, discussing something in a file between them. It’s too far away from his room for it to be about Callum, so he can’t find it in himself to care, even when he’s usually the most curious person. Now, though, he goes straight for Callum’s room.

The little blind on one of the windows is open, so he can see into the room. There’s a short, young-looking nurse checking something on the machine next to the bed, but that’s not what he wants to look at. His eyes are immediately drawn to the man in the middle of the bed. He’s changed, perhaps imperceptibly to someone who didn’t know him so well but he knows it- his cheeks look darker, more filled out by life and heat. He looks more  _ alive _ , than he had before lying there with machines threaded through his arms. It’s almost nothing, but it’s  _ something,  _ and it’s enough of something to set his head pounding, because maybe there's  _ hope _ . The nurse comes out of the room and says something that he can’t decipher. He must be standing there for too long, though, because eventually she just holds the door open for him. He smiles at her a little, but he can’t bear to be standing outside of the room any longer, not when he could be with Callum, be next to him when it’s been too long.

Ben falls into the plastic seat next to the bed without another thought, ignoring how it’s cold under his legs. 

Fuck, he just wants to  _ talk  _ to him, more than anything. His mind’s going crazy, because there’s still so many pieces of the story he can’t put together, things he doesn’t understand, things that he needs Callum to explain. He just needs to know what this is, to stop his brain from jumping to the worst conclusion unless it’s actually necessary. 

He thinks he remembers one of the doctors saying something yesterday about Callum being able to hear him, especially today while they’re gradually bringing him round. He’s not convinced, but then again he’s still trying to convince himself that the past few days hasn’t just been an elaborate nightmare. It’s a long shot, something like a miracle but honestly, he could do with a miracle right now. He can’t really hear himself, and maybe that’s for the best, because he’d hate the way his voice sounds right now, broken and cracking after every sentence. Still, if there’s even a chance that Callum is going to hear this he needs to take it. He takes a deep breath, feels the way it shakes in his chest, and speaks, words just pouring from his heart without thought.

“Hey, babe. Uh, it’s been a couple days now, and hopefully I’m gonna see you properly soon. The doctor said talking to you might help. It might well be utter bullshit but I haven’t got a clue and I’ve got nothing better to do with my morning.”

He pauses a minute, because suddenly the thoughts of all the things he could be doing with Callum in a morning, wrapping himself up in the other man’s arms, and the burning  _ need  _ for that overwhelms his chest for a minute, making it hard for him to take a breath in. 

“Lexi misses you. She said I’ve gotta tell you that she loves you, and that you have to get better soon so she can see you again. She’s been talking about you all through lockdown, got so much stuff she’s learnt that she wants to show you. It’s crazy, how she’s gotten so used to just having you around. It’s not a bad thing, don’t get me wrong. She adores you, and I’m so glad. I don’t think I could’ve been with someone she hated.”

He laughs a little, because it’s true, but it’s forced. There’s that reality weighing down on him, the heavy pressure of this forever that he’s planned with Callum, and the now terrifying prospect, however irrational it is, that they might not make it there. 

“I’ve, uh, I’ve missed having you around so much. It’s so weird being without you all the time, not being able to hold you when I go to sleep. God, for the first few weeks I was just- I was  _ so  _ lonely, even though there are so many people in that fucking house. It scares me, sometimes, how much I want you there. When your brother texted me and said you’d been acting weird, I just- I panicked, because I knew if Stuart could pick up on something like that, then something must be wrong. And I know maybe I shouldn't've, because of the rules and all that, but I just had to see you, because my mind was going crazy. Then when I- when I f-found you…”

Ben trails off, because suddenly there’s this lump of emotion in his throat and it’s impossible to ignore, and there’s tears on his cheeks now but he  _ doesn’t care,  _ he needs Callum more than he needs air right now. 

“It scared me so much because- because through lockdown I was thinking so much about being with you. I had all these ideas- Lexi’s, uh, she’s already decided she’s gonna be chief flowergirl at our wedding, so you’ve got that to look forward to, ain’t nothing to do with me. Just-  _ fuck _ , Callum, you are my future. I-I can’t see a life for me without you in it. I just- I can’t lose you, I need you to come back to me, yeah? Just, please. I don’t know what it is that’s happened, but I can promise you you’re going to get through this, we’re all gonna help you. Me, and- and Lex, fuck knows she’s a force of nature all on her own. You are gonna get better, you hear me? You are, because us Mitchells are nothing if not stubborn.”

He’s misspoken by calling Callum a Mitchell, he knows that, but he doesn’t have the willpower to take it back. It’s true enough, he might as well admit it. He closes his eyes, just for a minute, squeezes them shut against the tears burning against his eyelids. He’s never liked being weak like this, but Callum makes it okay, he always has-

There’s a shift, and suddenly there’s pressure on his hand where it’s resting against the bed. It’s barely there, but it  _ is,  _ and that’s the thing. 

He opens his eyes, hope squeezing his chest too tight- 

-and he’s looking into the most beautiful blue eyes he’s ever seen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehehehe im sorry for the cliffhanger but i couldn't resist.   
> okay so this chapter hated me for the longest time because i was trying to write it and then i came up with the whitney scene that i just *had* to write immediately, so then i wrote that but it wasn't a chapter on it's own so then i had to cram it into this one and i kinda like it but now you had this like 4k monstrosity so like, here ya go ig?? also i must apologise that i keep forgetting about this fic, it generally takes a bit out of me to write it but i really like the next chapter i think so like hopefully it shouldn't be too long. anyways, i hope you enjoyed, and comments and kudos mean the world to me, and lots of love to you all. also feel free to come scream at me on tumblr, im bensdove (i know, new url, who am i) over there so yeah. love yall  
> leo x

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so happy i'm finally able to post this!! so this fic is one that i've been working on for a few weeks now, in order to get it perfect. it's based off a sort-of prediction i had before the return that never amounted to anything, that i said i would write. well, here we are! i'm hoping to update maybe twice a week, i've written quite a way ahead so it hopefully should work out okay. I'm actually super proud of this, so i really hope you enjoy it. i must warn again that this does get pretty sad, but i promise it'll have a happy ending. also!! i highly recommend that you listen to leave a light on by tom walker while you read if you can bc it's been a huge inspiration for me while writing (i cried when i found it and how well it fit the fic lmao).  
> anyways! i hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you in the next chapter! also, follow my tumblr for updates n general screaming about ee, @artsy-highway. stay safe!  
> leo x


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